


The Worst Is Over (you can have the best of me)

by Madd4the24



Series: Echoes and Ripples [2]
Category: EXO (Band), Kpop - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Cute Kids, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family, Friendship, M/M, Matchmaking, Mpreg, Platonic Relationships, Romance, Sequel, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:46:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 90,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madd4the24/pseuds/Madd4the24
Summary: Three years after the birth of their daughter, and with their second child inbound, Luhan and Sehun are still learning happy endings take work. However, with close friends and loyal family at their backs, they make it work. And for once, it might be everyone else who needs the helping hand.(PLEASE NOTE THIS IS THE SECOND STORY IN A SERIES)





	1. Chapter One: Luhan

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, readers should take note that this is a sequel! This is the direct sequel to Lay Your Heart Next To Mine (I feel so alive) , so just in case you ended up here without knowing that, I can't stress enough how you'll absolutely need to read that first, if you want to have any idea of what's going on in this story. This story is a direct sequel to that one, and they're meant to be read together. If you want to read the first story, please read those author notes carefully. The story deals with some heavy subject matter and may not be for everyone.
> 
> That aside, this story was born from how unhappy I was with the epilogue of the previous story. That first story was about Luhan and Sehun, so it felt right to begin and end with them. But I also wanted to dive into what happened to the supporting cast, and all the characters the readers became invested in. There was no room for it in the previous story, thus this minisequel was born (lmao, when I say mini, I mean it's 90,000 words. Oops). So expect to read about Xiumin and Chen, Suho and Baekhyun, and all the guys that really helped Luhan and Sehun along.
> 
> And of course, Luhan and Sehun certainly can't make it through any of my stories without a little drama of their own, so expect that as well.  
> As usual, I do my best to make constant and consistent updates every Sunday. I never know what real life is going to throw at me, but an update every Sunday PST is always my goal.
> 
> So please enjoy! This story is a lot more lighthearted than the previous, and meant to tie up the very last loose ends that the reader might desire. I had a lot of fun writing this story, and thank you to all the readers of the previous story for being so patient and supportive while I wrote this thing up. Thank you!

Incheon International Airport was utter chaos on a Saturday afternoon around noon. Made worse was the fact that it was summer time, and flights had been booked through for months. There were swarms of people everywhere, people rushing about, and clusters of traveling groups. There were lines everywhere, from the bathroom, to the shops lining the walkways, and it was probably the least intelligent decision Luhan had made in months. But there he was. At the airport.

Vomiting up his breakfast into the toilet. 

There’d certainly been no line for him as he all but slammed his way into the bathroom, flushed and sweating, calling out a single warning before his body reacted terribly to the smell of pork in the air.

In the pork’s defense, it looked quite good. Luhan preferred beef, but the slow roasted pork on the more Western inspired breading, had looked amazing. Then Luhan had smelled it, and then his body had protested violently. 

Now Luhan was hovering awkwardly over to the toilet in the airport bathroom, one hand braced up on the stall wall, trying to get his breathing back under control. His stomach rolled in protest still, and if he hadn’t been feeling so miserable at the moment, he’d be embarrassed. 

“Get out of the way! Get out of my way before I make you!”

Luhan gagged a little more into the toilet, hating every second of it.

“I will end you, you asshole, if you don’t move! Do I look like I’m trying to cut in line? No. That’s right. So get the fuc—”

Luhan found his words then, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He called out sharply, “Baekhyun!”

In his rush to get to the bathroom, Luhan hadn’t exactly taken the time to lock the door behind him. So it was only a second later before Baekhyun was popping into the narrow stall, anger written across his features, but certainly not at Luhan.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun asked roughly. 

“Fine.” Luhan said. He reached a hand out to Baekhyun, requesting help up to his feet.

Baekhyun spied the hand for a second. “You didn’t get any vomit on your fingers, did you?”

Luhan was just the right height, on his knees, to reach out and punch Baekhyun in the balls. And Baekhyun seemed to realize that right around the time Luhan was contemplating it. 

“I’ve got you,” Baekhyun said, hefting Luhan, and all his extra weight, up to his feet. 

Baekhyun guided him over to the rows of sinks across the room, glowing darkly at anyone who dared to look their way.

“The bullshit continues?” Baekhyun asked. He cocked a hip out with his arms crossed over his chest, and watched Luhan splash some water on his face. “Sehun told me it was pretty much never ending, but I thought he was just being his usual hovering, suffocating self.”

Slowly Luhan began to feel better. He was less sticky with sweat, his breathing was back to normal, and all he could smell in the bathroom was the bleach used to clean it. He looked over to Baekhyun and said, “It’s called hyperemesis gravidarum.”

Baekhyun stared at his blankly. 

“Lingering and strong morning sickness,” Luhan supplied, turning to bump his belly deliberately against Baekhyun as he went to dry his hands. He did his best to pretend there weren’t a dozen eyes on him at the moment, and a dozen ears who’d heard him puking his breakfast up. “It’s not common, but it happens. Lucky me.”

They stepped out of the bathroom and Baekhyun pointed out, “You’re practically out of your second trimester at this point. How can you still be getting sick over a smell?”

“Maybe this is the universe balancing itself out,” Luhan mused, relishing a bit in the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers at the small of his back when they slipped into the crowd of the airport. “I had almost nothing with Youri. I suppose in a way, her little brother is trying to make up for that.”

Almost on cue, and in a way that inspired nothing but fondness, Luhan felt a ripple of movement from his son.

His son.

Youri had been the thing that saved Sehun. She had jumpstarted the kind of family Luhan had always desperately hoped to have, and brought about the formation of the greatest love Luhan thought humanly possible. Youri was a godsend in every way possible.

But there’d been trauma and difficulty attached to her conception. Everything with her had been a struggle, even if none of it was her fault. 

This baby was different. His and Sehun’s son was different.

Luhan could hardly believe they were having a son. It seemed like practically everyone, including Sehun, had expected Youri to have yet another sister. Sehun had even laughed out, “The evidence is pretty conclusive now, isn’t it? I’m really good at making little girls.”

A girl would have been fine. A girl would have been loved and cherished. 

But Luhan almost felt validated and vindicated by the idea of a son. There was going to be a son to carry on the family name. The Chinese values in Luhan had never really faded, no matter how long he’d been here in Korea, and the thought of having a son to do so, made every sick moment worth it. 

Mostly, though, Luhan just liked balance. He liked the idea of having a son and a daughter, and maybe that was enough. He and Sehun had talked about more children before their son had been conceived, and they’d known they wanted another after Youri, but that was where the talks had stopped. Luhan wondered if this would be it. If two would suffice. He wondered if it even mattered talking about it prematurely. 

“You’ve already got a difficult one,” Baekhyun pointed out.“How about the new kid tries something else for a change. Sehun’s going to be bald by his next birthday if this keeps up.”

Luhan felt justified in stating, “Youri isn’t difficult.”

That was a lie. His daughter was difficult in most things. But difficult wasn’t bad. Because in her difficulty, she was also fiercely independent, and wonderfully inquisitive. She was adventurous and determined, and there was no such thing as the word no to her. She wanted to try everything, and do everting, and she bounced right back from her failings. Youri was going to be someone in life. She was going to grow into greatness. And it was because she didn’t compromise, or settle, or sit back. 

“Last week your daughter tried to convince mine to climb up on the kitchen table and then jump off it,” Baekhyun pointed out sourly. 

Luhan laughed a little. “She put pillows down on the ground. She was just conducting an experiment in physics.”

Bakehyun leveled a scathing look at Luhan. “Your daughter is three. My daughter isn’t far behind. How can a three-year-old know about physics?”

Up ahead he and Baekhyun made their way to the receiving gates. Despite the chaos and frantic nature of the airport at the moment, most flights were running on time. And for that Luhan was eternally grateful. He was beyond fatigued. He wanted to sit down for a while, relax, drink as much water as he could stand, and be away from all the coughing people carrying who knew what kinds of diseases. 

With Youri’s pregnancy, Luhan had pushed head first into life with no worries.

With his son’s, Luhan worried about everything now. 

“Suho,” Luhan explained casually. “He’s been sending her all of these toddler and child focused math and science lesson books. They come with videos. You should borrow one for Ahra, actually. They’re designed to keep a kid’s attention using costumes and bright colors, and they explain everything very, very simply.”

Bakehun shook his head. “I repeat, no three-year-old needs to know about physics.”

“It’s not physics to Youri,” Luhan said. “It’s just funny people in funny clothing, showing her cool experiments that make her laugh. In ten years she’ll realize she’s been learning about Newton’s laws of physics. But now she’s just having fun. Suho’s practically over the moon. He’s determined to make her an astrophysicist yet.”

“Sounds like Suho needs to get his own baby to experiment on.”

More loudly than before, Luhan laughed. It was a good laugh, the kind that shook all the way down in him. “How about we get him married first?”

They arrived at their destination right as Bakehyun was asking, “Isn’t that what Sehun has been trying to do for the better part of a year now? Suho’s been dating that American girl for two years. They live together.She’d taken Suho to meet her family. Remind me again why they’re still not married?”

Ignoring the ache to his back, Luhan supposed, “Suho’s just not they type to rush things. I’m certain that’s the girl he wants to marry. He’s said as much without actually saying it. But Suho also seems the type to do things once, the proper way, and in his own time. Sehun doesn’t want to rush him. But we’ll be back here in a week’s time to pick Suho up from the airport. So I think Sehun plans to work on him then.”

Truth be told, Luhan was a little apprehensive about Suho coming back into town. Luhan adored Suho, and their relationship had never been stronger than it currently was, but Suho would be the last person of their extended family to arrive. And then afterwards Luhan and Sehun had painstakingly planned a get-together party for everyone. They were using their son as an excuse, but really it had just been too long since everyone had been together. 

Time had a way of pulling people apart. 

From Suho to Chen to Lay, all of Luhan’s friends had ended up in differenet places, save for a few. It would be nice to have everyone together. Even if the idea made Luhan nervous. What if they’d all changed a little too much? 

There were only a couple steady things Luhan thought he could hold onto, and oddly enough, Baekhyun was one of them.

If Luhan had been told years ago, that Baekhyun would end up being one of his best friends, he would have laughed himself sick. And they did have an often tumultuous friendship, with good days and bad ones. But Baekhyun was always there for him. They’d only grown closer as their daughters had. They spent time together simply out of friendship now, and confided in each other, and most importantly, they trusted each other.

After Sehun and Xiumin, Baekhyun had been the next person he told about his pregnancy. 

In a way, Luhan thought it was the fact that they’d had to work for a good friendship, that made it strong. Nothing that came easily was usually worth bearing fruit from. 

Baekhyun was worth it. 

“You might think about helping him out,” Luhan said as he strained up to his tip toes to see the arrival’s board being projected up on a monitor. The plane he was interested in was listed as on time, and had already started disembarking its passengers. “Next to Sehun, Suho listens the most to you. You could give him confidence. You’ve been more than his little brother’s best friend for a long time.”

Shoulder to shoulder with him, Baekhyun shrugged. 

Luhan tried to bring Jaehyuk up to Baekhyun has little as possible. It was still, if there was something that lingered between them, the single cause for continuous contention. Baekhyun openly and loudly stated often that Luhan wasn’t someone he saw as a usurper. Baekhyun was Luhan’s friend because he wanted to be, and because for all his trying, he actually liked Luhan. But Baekhyun had never been able to let go of Jae, not like Sehun had.

Sehun could talk fondly about Jae now without wincing, or being struck by a morose look in his eyes. He could take Youri to the side and tell her all about Jae and Seoyoung, and his life before Luhan. Sehun could relish in the memories he had of Jae without too much pain, and for that Luhan was eternally thankful for.

But Baekhyun carried a soreness with him about Jae. And Luhan talked about him as little as possible because of that.

It seemed Baekhyun had had as much of the topic as possible, because he asked Luhan, “So are we really here, doing this?”

Luhan looked around a little exaggeratedly. “Here? in the airport? Baekhyun, you’re talking nonsense. Is this the real life, or is this just fantasy?”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “Okay, you antiquated meme. I mean, are we really here together at the airport, picking up the guy who was okay with your family practically kidnapping you, all so he could force you into marrying him, and probably popping out a kid eventually.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t say it like that.”

“I really wish that weren’t the real story.”

Frowning, Luhan pointed out, “I didn’t ask you to come with me. You invited yourself along, I recall.”

Baekhyun didn’t look bashful in the least when he pointed out, “Sehun’s stuck at work all day today because of that big project. Chanyeol told me the two of the are pretty stressed out over making the deadline for the contract. And that guy who pretends to be your best friend—”

“You sound jealous of Xiumin.”

“He,” Baekhyun pressed on, “would rather spend all day at that clinic of his. So someone had to be here. Or were we supposed to just let you go traipsing off into danger with a five pound baby sitting on your bladder?”

“There are so many things wrong with that statement,” Luhan said, but ultimately he was touched by Baekhyun. He had just simply mentioned to Baekhyun and Taeyeon, when he’d come to pick Youri up from her playdate with Ahra a couple of days ago, that he was planning on going to the hospital by himself to pick up Wei. 

And Luhan was not missing Wei’s arrival. His long-time friend was going to be in Korea for the first time in over three years, and while they spoke often on the phone, Luhan wanted to see him in person. 

“Xiumin just received a full-time position at the clinic,” Luhan said in a distracted way as he arched up onto his tiptoes. People were beginning to arrive through the gate, and he wanted to spot Wei the second he was through. “He’s got to prove to his bosses, who pretty much gave him the job right out of school and with no serious experience, that he’s worth the investment. Oh, and if you find the danger to my safety around here, please point it out to me.”

Baekhyun grumbled, “Just explain to me how Sehun is oaky with this guy being anywhere near you.”

Luhan sighed. If he did, it was going to be a very long story. 

And mostly, he just wanted to concentrate on seeing his old friend. After an intital few months of silence, ones that stretched into the time after Youri’s birth, Luhan and Wei had found their way back to each other again. And it was for the best, in Luhan’s opinion. Wei had needed the time to get himself set up in America, and Luhan had needed to focus on his famiy.

Now Wei was coming back a successful journalist, someone who knew exactly who he was, and someone that Luhan was more than proud to call a brother.

“Look,” he told Baekhyun, turning away from the disembarking passengers. “I’m certainly not trying to invalidate the trauma of your childhood by saying that Wei had it worse, but Wei definitely had it worse. You were able to grow up how you wanted, Baekhyun, and make your own choices, and be who you wanted to be. It was different for Wei and me in China. We were forced to be who we weren’t, and were under an incredible amount of pressure. I got away to Korea as soon as possible, and that was something lucky on my part. Wei wasn’t so lucky, not at first.”

The barest hint of pressure came from Baekhyun pressing his hand against the stretched skin at Luhan’s stomach. The baby inside kicked back playfully, and Baekhyun said, “He hurt you, he could have hurt Youri, and that’s unforgivable.”

Luhan let his fingers curl around Baekhyun’s wrist gently, and he said just for the two of them, “The man you’ll meet any second now, is not the man who did those things. People change, Baekhyun. People can be better. I think both you and I know that, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun looked soured, which meant to Luhan, who spoke fluent Baekhyun, that his words were hitting home.

“Wei saved me when we were kids,” Luhan stated. “He kept my secrets, Baekhyun. And he kept me sane for all the years and I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t. Sehun understands that. I won’t lie and say that Wei is Sehun’s favorite person, but Sehun respects what Wei means to me.”

Still unhappy, Baekhyun commented, “Enough to let him stay with you guys.”

“Just until the first of the month when Wei is able to move into his new apartment and start his lease.” Luhan squeezed Baekhyun’s wrist. “It’s important to me that Wei gets to spend the next six months here with me, while he takes this work assignment, and it would be really nice if my friends could all get along.”

Baekhyun remarked, “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

Luhan could have kissed him. “Thank you, Baekhyun.”

“Luhan!”

Luhan turned at the sound of his name, echoing across the large area, deep and boisterous.

A second later the crowd parted a little, and a tall man was charging his way towards Luhan, a bag thrown over his shoulder and a grin on his face.

“Wei!” Luhan waved a hand at him, but he only managed for a second before Wei was there, tugging him into a heavy hug, laughing and reminding Luhan of home.

A good home. 

Wei felt like the memory of sneaking out at midnight to eat shaved ice and talk about manga, and making up frivolous stories in their free time that they had every desire in the world to bring to fruition. Wei was warm hugs on cold days, and comfort, and understanding, and friendship.

That kind of home. 

“You look so good,” Luhan said, holding Wei out at arm’s length. Wei had always been taller than him, with broader shoulders and just a bigger presence. But now Wei looked happy, and healthy, and all the things that Luhan had hoped for him. Wei looked like he’d been spending time in the sun, and laughing. “You look so good!”

“Me?” Wei countered with a scoff. “Look at you. Baby number two!”

Baekyhun scoffed from the side and said loudly, “A language we can all understand, please.”

It was startling to Luhan how easily he’d slipped into Chinese with Wei. At home, Luhan spoke Chinese to Youri often out of principle, trying to acquaint her with the language. But other than that, Luhan’s day was filled with the Korean language. 

“Wei,” Luhan said, still amused greatly by Baekhyun’s obvious jealousy, “this is one of my greatest friends, Byun Baekhyun. His daughter and Youri are best friends, and we’re practically living out of each other’s houses at his point.”

Wei held out his hand to Baekhyun and announced, “Luhan’s talked a lot about you, actually. I feel like I practically know you already.”

Baekhyun bristled. “He has, has he?”

“Only good things,” Luhan insisted with a grin.

“It’s true,” Wei confirmed. “He said you’re a great friend.” Wei swung his attention back to Luhan. “Now, where’s my niece?”

The three of them began the long trek back to the car in the garage, and Luhan said, “Youri’s at her preschool.”

“No way.” Wei shook his head. “She can’t be that big already, can she?”

Baekhyun snorted out, “She’s already doing physics, apparently.”

Luhan elbowed him and said, “It’s nothing serious, just a daytime academy that she goes to where she can practice her numbers and letters, and that sort of thing. Half of the time she’s there she’s just playing on the jungle gym. But it’s good to get her into a routine for when school does actually start.”

Wei looked impressed. “That’s great. I’m so excited to see her again. I’ve brought her something from the States that will solidify my status as best uncle ever.”

Baekhyun looked pretty livid at the idea of that, and Luhan smothered down a laugh. Baekhyun liked to consider himself to be Youri’s favorite uncle, and it was absolutely true that she doted on him the most out of all the men in her life she called uncle. Naturally Suho thought he was the best uncle, and truthfully they were all amazing uncles to Youri, but Baekhyun took pride in the distinction. 

Anxiety about the upcoming gathering with everyone, Wei and Baekhyun included, was definitely lunging up to the forefront of Luhan’s thoughts all of the sudden once again.

But having Wei around just made Luhan happy. It was a feeling of happiness just being near him, and not even Baekhyun’s scowl could dislodge it. “Well, I hope you’re really to go toe to toe with a lot of other guys for that distinction.”

Wei laughed off, “Let the games begin.”

Thankfully, after that, conversation turned much easier and lightered. Wei was only too happy to tell Luhan his previous time spent in the States, and how he was nervous to be in Korea despite being at least averagely proficient in the language, but excited to do something new.

“I’m happiest when I’m moving and doing things,” Wei said confidently. “I’m definitely not designed to sit in a cubicle or office all day long and go over sales projections.”

Turned in his seat at the front of the car that Bakehyun drove, Luhan replied, “You would have been just as miserable as me if we were stuck in China, then.” Luhan couldn’t imagine a life outside of his art studio, away from his colors and brushes and freedom of expression. 

“Maybe a little less miserable if I had you as a friend,” Wei said, and Luhan agreed with a nod. 

A little under an hour later Baekhyun was pulling up in front of Luhan and Sehun’s home. He put the car in park and turned to Luhan asking, “You good? I can always pick Youri up in an hour or so, if you want. Or Taeyeon can.She’s only doing a half day at work today, and she’ll be out in time if you don’t feel like walking down to the academy.”

Luhan waved him off and undid his seatbelt. “I’m feeling much better now. It think Wei and I should be there today to pick Youri up. She was so upset she didn’t get to go to the airport to pick him up this morning she’s practically not speaking to me.”

Wei leaned forward in his seat to ask, “I thought she was treating you like the villain because she found out a couple months ago you’re pregnant?”

Luhan winced a little. “She’s still growing into the idea.” More like she had dug her heels in and was fighting every step of the change. 

“That’s putting it lightly,” Baekhyun said, bursting out laughing. “She tried to sell the baby to Ahra about a month ago for an extra snack cookie.”

“It’s a work in progress,” Luhan said definitively. He told Baekhyun, “Thank you for taking me to the airport, and then bringing the both of us back here. I appreciate it. See you this weekend?” Baekhyun had agreed to come over and bring Ahra to help Luhan and Sehun put together the final touches of their planned gathering of friends. Luhan wasn’t certain he and Sehun could do it without Baekhyun, and hopefully Taeyeon who had a way of focusing people to a task that couldn’t be matched. 

“I’ll be there,” Baekhyun promised. 

As soon as Baekhyun sped off, Wei gave a low whistle and looked up at the house. “You showed me pictures, but you didn’t say it was this nice.”

“Sehun and I are lucky,” Luhan agreed, taking Wei to the front door. “Sehun has an established career that lets him provide easily for a family. Even a growing one.” He patted his stomach. “I think I’m really starting to get some traction in the art community, too, and with any luck, I’ll be able to have another gallery showing this year.”

“You absolutely will,” Wei said supportively. “You’re an amazing artist, Luhan. I just wish you had the confidence in yourself, that everyone else has in you.”

“Oh,” Luhan decided. “When you say stuff like that you make me believe that you’re going to fit in just right here.”

“Huh?”

Luhan pushed open the front door and said, “Everyone around here’s got a monologue like that just waiting to come out. Save yours for the others, okay?”

Luhan gave Wei a tour of the house, pointing out the small trinkets from Wei that were littered around, evidence of the amount of traveling the man had done in a past few years. 

“We’re going to put you up here,” Luhan said, showing Wei to the guest room. It was sandwiched right between Youri’s room and the nursery, and it was small in nature, but it faced the east, got good light, was clean, and would serve a purpose.

“I know you said he was cool with it,” Wei said, putting his bag on the bed. “But are you sure Sehun’s okay with me staying here until my lease kicks in? I don’t want to cause problems between the two of you, especially with a baby on the way. I can stay in a hotel for a couple of weeks. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is to me,” Luhan said sharply. “You’re my oldest friend, and I won’t have you at a hotel.” He was quiet for a second, then divulged, “Sehun’s been in therapy for a long time now. Three years and then some. And the foundation of our relationship, and the thing that therapy has given him, is the ability and necessity for him to speak up and say what he’s thinking. To tell the truth. To be honest. I believe him when he talks, because of this. And he told me he’s okay with you staying here, so I believe him. He knows you’re family to me, so you’re family to him.”

In a quiet, reserved tone, Wei said, “I’m the guy who tried to take you from him. I’m the guy who tried to steal his daughter away.”

“I don’t see that person here.” Luhan took confident strides towards the doorway. “If you see him, we’ll discuss it them. Otherwise come on, let’s get something to eat and sit down for a while. My feet are killing me and it’s at least a fifteen minute walk to Youri’s academy.”

Of course food for Luhan, with his extreme aversion to smells now, meant a glass of water and some watermelon, but it was easy on his stomach and it felt good just to be able to sit next to Wei and talk about their childhood. 

Afterwards they made the walk down to pick Youri up. 

They were waiting for her lesson to be over when Wei commented, “You know, skype calls have been amazing, but I haven’t held Youri in my arms since before she could walk.”

“She runs now,” Luhan chuckled. 

“That’s terrifying,” Wei said.

Luhan couldn’t agree more. Then he posed, “When are you going to have one of your own?”

Smiling white teeth at Luhan, Wei reminded, “I’d have to find someone for that sort of thing, right?” He sighed and said, “I thought I had someone. For a while, I thought I had the one. Then he just couldn’t take it.”

“Take it?”

“The traveling,” Wei said. “The fact that I go on assignment sometimes and have to be in Singapore, then Wales, then Los Angeles, sometimes all in the same year. And I get it, you know. That’s a lot to ask from someone in a relationship. I’m not holding that against anyone. I’m just …”

Lonely. Luhan could see it all over Wei’s face, and in his body language. Wei was lonely. 

“Anyway,” Wei said with false confidence, straightening up. “I’ve got Youri, haven’t I? And I’ve got that new baby of yours. I’ll be in Seoul long enough to see him born, and that’s something that I’m looking forward.”

To all of that, Luhan had no idea what to say. But the need was taken from him when Youri spotted them. And then she was headed at them like a torpedo, calling out for Wei, arms stretched up for him. 

“I think she loves you more than she loves me,” Luhan said wryly, but not without humor. It was heartwarming to see the way Youri wrapped her arms around Wei’s neck and hugged onto him tightly.

“I missed you,” Wei said, rubbing her back. 

Youri said in a muffled way, “Baba was so mean. He said I couldn’t come get you.” Youri shot him a betrayed look. 

Luhan ignored it all the same. Youri was definitely quick to anger, but she was just as quick to forgive.Youri didn’t hold grudges well, and soon enough Luhan knew she’d be willing to overlook it all, as soon as Luhan gave her her after school snack.

“Ready to go home?” Luhan asked. He held his hand out to her when she was on her feet again, pleated dress smoothed out. 

Her tiny hand reached up for his and Luhan started them back.

“Everything went okay?” Sehun asked on the phone an hour later when everything had settled down completely. Luhan was situated in Sehun’s office for some privacy, but from where he was standing he could just see through the study’s glass door to where Youri was situated at the kitchen table. She had a workbook out in front of her, a plate of sliced apples to the side coated in peanut butter, and Wei was across from her with his laptop. The two of them were working in relative silence, but Luhan could seem them exchange words once in a while. 

“Perfect,” Luhan reported. “Wei’s plane was on time, he said the flight was smooth, and as expected, Youri was delighted to see him. She practically talked his ear off on the way home.”

“And what about now?”

Luhan bit back a laugh. “Now Youri looks like she’s close to needing an afternoon nap. She’s working on an activity book—numbers I think. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Sehun sputtered a little. “Luhan, how could you even—”

“I knew when you had those security cameras put in the house,” Luhan broke in, “exactly what you were planning to use them for.” He turned to the once discretely placed in the corner of the study. There were a little under a dozen cameras all over the house, all of which were accessible from either Luhan or Sehun’s phones. Sehun claimed it was all for security, but then Sehun had never really grown out of his helicopter parenting. 

Just for fun, Luhan gave the camera in the room a small wave.

A half second later, Sehun commented, “You look tired.”

Satisfied with Youri’s doings, Luhan leveled himself down onto the sofa in the room slowly. “I am tired. I’m always tired.”

Sehun huffed out, “This is your second trimester. You should be getting your second wind now. This isn’t fair.”

Luhan was inclined to agree. When he’d been pregnant with Youri, he’d had an abundance of energy all the way up until the end. Now, on the worst of days, getting up and down the stairs was a challenge. The doctors all still thought it was perfectly fine, but the last thing Luhan needed was Sehun going into extreme worry mode.

“I’ll probably go to bed early tonight,” Luhan told him. “But I feel okay, I promise. How are things going at work?”

“Busy as always.” Now Sehun was the one who sounded tired. “I think Chanyeol is worried we aren’t going to make the deadline. And we are running behind. I’m sorry, but I think that means I’ll be working some late nights. I might even need to stay overnight a couple of times. I have to make this deadline.”

“No, I get it, it’s okay.” Sehun had been doing nothing but working long hours as of late, but it wasn’t as if he was doing anything but acting the responsible adult. It wasn’t Sehun’s fault his boss was being overly demanding, and that the company was short staffed. And Luhan certainly wasn’t going to take all of that out on Sehun. “Do I need to come down there with some food and make sure you’re eating right and resting when you need to?”

There was such love in Sehun’s voice when he said, “You’re too good to me. What did I do to deserve you?”

“I know you too well,” Luhan chided. “You won’t do any of us any good if you burn out.”

“I know. I know.”

With pursed lips, Luhan asked, “Are you going to miss dinner again?”

Sehun’s silence was telling. It would mark the third time that week. 

“I’m going to send Kris over,” Luhan decided. “I’ll have him bring something hearty up to you and Chanyeol, and I’ll make sure he stays long enough to be confident that you’re actually eating the food.”

“I don’t want anyone to go out of their way,” Sehun started.

But Luhan’s mind was made up. And what was the point of having a friend in the food business if he couldn’t take advantage of it occasionally?

Of course, Luhan knew Kris hadn’t meant to end up running the chain of his parent’s cafes that were littered from Incheon to Busan, with the epicenter in Seoul. But he’d quit his corporate job when his father had suffered a stroke, and then his mother had quit working to take care of him. 

Still, it was the best thing that could have happened to the business. Kris had taken four small but aclectic coffee shops and turned them into something expectional. There were eight of them now, and they served soups and slightly heavy foods now, branching out their menu and customer base. They were the same welcoming alternative to Starbucks, but now they were meant to have a more broad appeal. 

Sehun had worked with Kris for a short period to revamp the chain’s market appeal, and when profits had doubled in a year, Kris had insisted that they were eating and drinking whenever they came in for free, for life. 

Kris’s empire was building steadily and with a great projection, and despite Luhan knowing how little Kris had wanted the job in the first place, he now seemed happy and content. 

Luhan severely doubted that Kris was going to say no to helping out a bit. Kris never said no, no matter how obstinate he could be. 

“Do it to make me feel better,” Luhan requested, effectively trapping his husband with guilt.

Sehun knew it, too, and commented, “That’s dirty of you, Luhan.”

“Do it for me and the baby. For your son.”

“So dirty.”

Now Luhan did laugh openly. “I’ll send Kris your way in a couple of hours. I’m serious, eat and get your strength back. And don’t drive home if you’re too tired. I can come get you, if you want. That second car you insisted we needed is just sitting in the driveway, you know.”

A bit darkly, Sehun said, “You know I get nervous now when you drive. You’re … delicate right now.”

“I am not.” Luhan lugged himself over to the office door, just to verify that Youri was sit seated in her boosterseat at the kitchen table, working away. Maybe Sehun wasn’t the only one helicopter parenting. “I should go now. Youri’s likely to face plant on the table any second, and you have a deadline to make. I’ll see you later tonight, and call me if you need a ride home.”

“All right,” Sehun agreed. “I’ll call if I’m too tired. Tell Wei I said hi, and give Youri my love.”

“Just Youri?”

“I am doing something very, very wrong,” Sehun said, “if I have to tell you how much I love you, and how you’re the center of my world, and how you are the reason I get up in the morning, and the reason I breathe, and why I—” 

Quickly, Luhan said, “I love you too.”

He loved Sehun so much it nearly hurt in his heart at times. 

As expected, Sehun most certainty didn’t make it home in time for dinner. But that was okay, because Wei was a fantastic cook, and he insisted on involving Youri in the process as much as possible. It served to distract her from Sehun’s absence. 

She did, however, ask when it was bath time, “Will daddy tuck me in?”

Luhan was kneeling next to the bathtub, washing down her back with lavender scented soap when she asked. She looked at him with big eyes, earnestly asking the question. 

“Daddy’s working late again,” Luhan eased out, lifting her arm to get underneath. 

“Oh.”

She looked so disappointed Luhan said, “Remember how we talked about this last time? Daddy works late a lot because he’s very important. And a lot of people rely on him. He doesn’t work late because he wants to.” Bath toys bobbed in the water, and Luhan added, “Daddy will tuck you in tomorrow night for certain.”

Youri looked up at him with certain suspicion. “You promise?”

Instead of answering, and Luhan was terrified to making one that couldn’t be kept, he asked, “Would you like Uncle Wei to tuck you in tonight?”

Her fact lit at that. “Yes, please!”

So Luhan stood in the door frame of Youri’s room forty minutes later, listening to Wei’s soothing voice as he read a book. Youri’s eyes were drooping a little more with each minute that passed, and then finally they didn’t open again. Wei seemed to wait with baited breath, not sure if she was really out at first, before standing and tucking the book away.

Youri’s door was shut successfully behind them when Wei asked, “Does this happen a lot?” He didn’t look happy in the least bit. “Does Sehun have to work late? Are you stuck doing all this with Youri by yourself?”

Luhan leveled a finger up at him. “Don’t.”

“I’m not,” Wei tossed back just as quickly. “I’m not blind, Luhan. I see what his hard work has provided for you and Youri. I know he’s a good man—better than I am, and I respect that. But this is a lot for you to shoulder by yourself. This is too much, especially since you’re not feeling well. And what’s going to happen when you have a newborn?”

Luhan protested, “Sehun took paternity leave when Youri was born. I assume he’ll do it again.” They just hadn’t really talked about it. But Luhan also wasn’t finished with his second trimester. They had time.

Unmoved, Wei asked, “If Sehun goes to work all day, and you do this with Youri, and try and keep the house running smoothly, when do you have time to paint?”

Luhan poked at his stomach. “I’m not doing any painting right now. In fact, the last time I even passed by my paints, I got sick.”

“You know what I mean.”

Luhan felt a ripple of movement across his stomach and said, “Sehun is just trying to get settled into his promotion. His work load practically doubled. He’ll take paternity leave when the baby is born. He’ll be here as much as he can now, and more in the future. Don’t suggest otherwise.”

Wei looked far from done with their conversation, but he was also far too considerate to push the issue with the growing hour. So instead he sighed and said, “I’m sorry. And I’m also completely jet lagged. I think I’ll head to bed now.” He put a comforting hand on Luhan’s shoulder, then headed directly to the guest room he was staying in. 

Luhan stood in the hallway for some time after Wei’s bedroom door closed. And then slowly, with some effort, he made his way to the master bedroom. 

He took off his watch and set it on the dresser, near the silver framed picture of Sehun and Jae on their wedding day, which was next to his and Sehun’s own wedding day picture, and then began pulling at his clothing. 

He barely remembered getting into bed and settling down.

But he most certainly felt the dip in the bed sometime later. Having Youri had made Luhan a much lighter sleeper than he’d been before.He practically startled awake until he felt a soft kiss to the back of his neck, and a familiar hand slid around to his stomach.

“It’s just me,” Sehun whispered in the darkness of the bedroom.

Luhan squinted at the clock across the room and frowned at the hour. “It’s so late.”

“Sorry,” Sehun apologized as he settled into place. He pressed his chest against Luhan’s back and held him firmly. “Work sucked tonight. Thanks for the food. It was good. Kris says hi.”

Luhan was quiet for a little, then confided, “I missed you.”

“I always miss you,” Sehun returned. “I miss you, and Youri, and baby.”

Luhan could feel Sehun sink against him in exhaustion.

It wasn’t fair, Luhan wanted to shout. It wasn’t fair Sehun was working himself into the ground to provide for them, and everyone was suffering for it.

Luhan brought his hand up to cover Sehun’s across his stomach. “I love you,” he said, wondering if Sehun was even still awake. 

“Mmm,” Sehun said a second later. “Not as much as I love you.”

Sehun smelled like carpet cleaner and paper, evidence that he’d been at work long after the janitors had started working, surrounded by mountains of memos, likely. And the smell made nausea want to claw its way up Luhan’s throat, but he ignored it, breathing in the scent of their sheets instead. 

“Not possible.”

Sehun hugged him just a little tighter, kissing his skin again. “Absolutely possible.”

Luhan fell back off to sleep just after that. And when Youri woke them in the morning, jumping up and down on the bed in glee to see Sehun, most of Luhan’s worries were put aside for the moment. 

He’d always been good at compartmentalizing. 


	2. Chapter Two: Sehun

“You know what this is, Sehun? What it really is underneath it all?”

The sheer tone of Chanyeol’s voice, the frustration and irritation, and actual anger, forced Sehun to look away from the stream of code displayed on his computer.Coding had definitely never been Sehun’s strong point, but he had a basic knowledge of it, and he was currently picking away the groundwork of what he was creating, so he could move onto the more interesting, artistic aspects of the presentation he needed to give. 

But Chanyeol’s voice caught his attention right away.

All in all, especially as the years had passed, Chanyeol had started to settle into a pattern of being calmer and more consistent. Chanyeol had always been more happy than not, and he was a positive guy in general, but now more than ever his maturity was showing. So the sharp spike in Chanyeol’s tone was like a warning siren to Sehun, and pulled at him him immediately. 

“What?”

Chanyeol was currently stretched out on the sofa at the other end of Sehun’s office. He was practically buried under a mountain of papers and reference files, and had his laptop balanced on a knee that was bumping visibly. No doubt through the link their computers were sharing Chanyeol could see the lines of code laid out on the screen, but that didn’t seem to be where his attention was at all. 

“Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol practically dumped his laptop to the side, and Sehun winced.

“This,” Chanyeol stated, “is utter and complete bullshit.”

Sehun leaned back in his seat, then rubbed a hand over his face. “Chanyeol, that’s not helping.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “Then tell me I’m wrong. Tell me our client isn’t full of shit, and I’ll shut up and get back to work.”

The thing was, Chanyeol knew Sehun couldn’t, because it was true. Their client, some big shot real estate developer currently based out of Hong Kong was asking the most impossible things from them, and that impossibility was doing more than just stressing them out. It was the kind of impossibility that was threatening their position at the company.

And Sehun felt nothing but guilty for it. He was the one who’d gotten the promotion months ago to a senior position, and he was the one who’d assured his boss that he had the time and the energy to devote to the company. 

At the time, Sehun had thought he was doing the right thing, bringing Chanyeol up in the ranks with him. They worked in different advertising departments, with Sehun handling more web design and Chanyeol focusing more predominantly at market appeal, but they often collaborated. And Sehun wanted that partnership to continue. So he’d gotten his promotion, and then he’d pulled Chanyeol up with him, to collaborate more frequently.

They’d done it so often in the past few years that they were practically an established team, and Sehun’s boss was starting to think of them as one unit. That might have been utterly fine if they hadn’t gotten stuck on a project that demanded an outcome that wasn’t feasible in the least. 

Sehun wasn’t sure what was going to happen when their deadline came and went and they had little to show for it, or something that the client didn’t want.

Sehun was terrified of what came after. 

What kind of husband and father would he be if he couldn’t keep his family living well? He’d sworn to Luhan, sworn to him even before they loved each other, and before Youri was born, that he would always take care of his family financially. He couldn’t go breaking his word, so he had to find some kind of fix.

There had to be something.

“Just look at this shit,” Chanyeol said, holding up one of the latest emails they’d gotten from the client’s secretary. It was a printout of the same email that Sehun had in his own inbox. “How are we supposed to target both an international and domestic market? How are we supposed to build a promotional plan that features both western and eastern appeal? What the fuck is this line right here, where we’re supposed to draw in whale-type clients, while still proposing to the average citizen that one day they might too, own one of these properties. What the hell?”

“It’s not possible,” Sehun admitted to Chanyeol. “But you were in the room that last time we tried to talk to the client about narrowing down his focus market. You and I were both berated, and had our skills called into question, because we told the client that he was being to broad in his demands. Do you want a repeat of that?”

“No.” Chanyeol flopped back on the sofa. “I just want something I can deliver on. I can’t market to everyone. You can’t create something that has mass economic appeal. And saying that we have to, is just so messed up.”

Sehn’s eyes drifted across his desk. There, right next to the monitor to his computer, was the picture that had been taken at Youri’s third birthday party. She’d insisted on having a birthday party centered around her favorite television show. So there’d been a safari theme in their house for a full day, and Youri wore an adventurer costume, and the kids had gone on treasure hunts and encountered adults done up like animals, and there’d been a tiger shaped cake. 

But the picture in general had Youri up on Sehun’s shoulders, her body practically leaning over his head as she waved at Sehun’s eldest sister who’d been taking the picture. And Sehun had his arm around Luhan’s narrow shoulders, a look of such happiness and pride in his eyes that it practically radiated off the photo. They’d just barely known Luhan was pregnant then, only a few weeks along, and Sehun had never wanted to stop touching him at that point. 

This was his family. Luhan, and Youri and the baby, they were his family. They were more than just precious to him. They were the only thing that mattered in the world. And there wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to do for them, including working himself in to the ground. 

He’d taken the promotion because there was a new baby, and because Sehun wanted to give them all the best possible life he could. He wouldn’t fail them, and he didn’t matter what it cost him. 

“I’ll try talking to our boss again,” Sehun said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I’ll explain to him that this just isn’t possible.”

Chanyeol cut in, “We should have been done with this a week ago. We’ve shown the client three different proposals. We’ve changed and changed and changed, and now we’re here. Staring at lines of code. Wanting to throw ourselves off the roof.” Chanyeol gave his laptop a disgusted look.

They just had to get the online webpage up. They just had to get that right, as far as Sehun was concerned. If they could get the online right, then they could build a magnificent marketing campaign around it. 

Again, Sehun stated, “I’ll talk to the boss.”

Of course that was certainly the last thing he wanted to do. And it was easier to let his mind drift to earlier that morning. He’d gotten in so late the night before, and he’d missed all the important things. He hadn’t been able to eat dinner with his family. He hadn’t been able to bathe Youri, or read to her before bed, or hold Luhan in his arms as they drifted off. He hadn’t been a good father or husband the night before.

But in the morning Sehun had done his best to make up for it all. Youri didn’t have her preschool classes on Sunday, so the three of them had trekked their way into the kitchen and had a fun time making breakfast together. Wei, Luhan’s oldest friend, had been completely jetlagged and slept through it all.

Maybe it was a little selfish, but Sehun was glad for it. It was nice to just have Luhan and Youri in the kitchen, and then just the three of them clustered around the breakfast table, talking and laughing and just being with each other. 

And for just a moment Sehun had been able to let the world fall away. He’d been able to give his daughter his full and undivided attention as they sat together and she talked about the things she’d been doing in her early start classes.

Then Sehun had been able to take Luhan in his arms and fret over him, and kiss him and touch the swell of his stomach so reverently. 

There were days when Sehun couldn’t believe that his life was unfolding the way it was. He’d once thought he’d be lucky enough to have a moment or two with someone as wonderful with Youri. And now he had her with Luhan, and they had another baby on the way—a son.

“I’ll do it,” Chanyeol stated.

“Do what?” Sehun asked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He didn’t want to dwell on Luhan and Youri too much. He had to focus on his work now, especially since he’d made a promise that he’d be home for dinner, and he’d be able to read Youri to sleep that night.He wasn’t going to be the kind of father who broke promises. 

“I’ll talk to the boss,” Chanyeol said, giving Sehun a sympathetic look. “The last time you went, and I could hear him yelling at you from down the hall. It’s my turn to take on for the team.”

“Literally,” Sehun snuck out. 

“Something has to change,” Chanyeol decided, lifting his laptop once more. “Especially since you and Luhan have that big baby party planned for the end of next week.”

At the mention of the baby, Sehun’s face split in a smile, but he was quick to say, “It’s not a baby party. It’s not the shower that I’m sure my mother and sisters are going to foist on Luhan and I by the end of the next couple of months. It’s just a get together between friends, that’s all.”

Chanyeol scoffed loudly and threw a balled up piece of paper at Sehun’s head. “You think you could get Suho from America, Chen from Taiwan, D.O from England, and Tao and Lay from China all in one place for anything but your little bundle of joy? Please, we’re all coming for the baby pool.”

Sehun’s head cocked a little. “The baby pool?”

Chanyeol clarified, “The betting pool.” He held up two fingers. “There’s double the fun this time. We’re all still pretty irritated you spilled the beans on the gender, but there’s a betting pool on who’ll get closest to the name, and who gets to be godfather. We’re all assuming that your sisters are going to vie again for the role of godmother.”

Sehun let himself laugh. “It’s kind of a pain I’ve got three of them. Mom’s saying it’s only fair Luhan and I have three babies because of it.” He pointed out, “But you make sure to tell Suho he can take his horse out of the race for godfather right now. He got Youri. He doesn’t get to be godfather for the new baby, too.”

Sehun wasn’t even really sure who was going to get the designation at all. He and Luhan had had so precious little time to talk about things over the past months, but when they had, they hadn’t been able to agree at all. Sehun also didn’t think it was a complete coincidence that Luhan’s friend Wei was in town for the birth of their son. 

Long ago Sehun had put his issues with Wei to rest. There was still certainly a bad taste in his mouth instinctively, when he thought about the man who’d been a part of trying to wreck their family. But ultimately, Wei’s actions over the past three years had spoken loudly. He’d been nothing but a supportive pillar of strength for Luhan. He’d never overstepped boundaries, he’d developed a wonderful relationship with Youri, and he’d truly become a family friend. 

Sehun wouldn’t be surprised if Luhan wanted to name Wei godfather of their baby. But Sehun was kind of hoping the job might go to Chen. If Chen wanted it at all. Babies were an extremely sensitive subject for Chen, and for Eunji, at this point. Trying to appoint Chen godfather might actually do more harm than good, Sehun reasoned.

But Sehun and Luhan certainly had time to figure it all out. Luhan was only five months in. there was definitely time. 

Chanyeol made a sound. “No one was actually considering Suho could do a repeat. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter what the get together is for, I guess. It’ll just be nice to be in the same place as everyone again. I know it’s normal, right? Life happens and people sometimes drift away from each other. But it’s been a long time since we were all together. Lay’s really coming, right?”

On a happier note, Sehun have a certain nod. “He confirmed officially a couple days ago. I know he wasn’t really sure if he was going to be able to get away, he just took a senior position in his mother’s company. But he told Luhan yes, so he’ll be there.”

Chanyeol flashed a thumbs up. “Tell him to bring that wife of his. She makes him less boring.”

“Lay’s not boring,” Sehun chided. “He’s an adult. And you’re pretty boring yourself these days, so I wouldn’t talk, if I were you.”

Chanyeol put his chin in his palm playfully. “I’m an adult now too, Sehun.”

“You’ve been an adult for a while now, Chanyeol.”

Sehun was just teasing, but there was a truth to how Chanyeol had spent the past few years growing up. He’d stopped chasing beautiful women and handsome men around, looking for a good time and no commitment.He’d gotten serious about setting down roots, and had been browsing for a house for some time.He went out less, partied only on the weekends, and had had a couple of stable, longer than normal relationships. 

Chanyeol was the type who liked to deflect his own insecurities with more carnal urges, but things were changing. Maybe they were going slowly, but in time, Sehun could see Chanyeol completely settled down, maybe with a family one day. 

“Okay, I guess we should get back to work,” Chanyeol said with a sigh. “I do actually want to get to go home tonight, instead of sleeping on your sofa or the floor of my own office.”

“I am going home tonight,” Sehun said pointedly. “I promised Youri a bed time story.”

Again Sehun reiterated to himself, he wasn’t going to be the father who broke his word to his daughter. He wasn’t. 

So they went back to work, but they made progress slowly. The sun dipped in the horizon, Chanyeol left twice to clear his head and get coffee, and all the while Sehun tried to keep himself focused. He’d had difficult clients before. He could handle demanding. He could find a way. 

“It’s seven,” Chanyeol announced before Sehun knew it. He was slipping into the office after a bathroom break with several message paper sheets in his hand. He passed them to Sehun and said, “Luhan’s been leaving messages for forty-five minutes with the secretary. He says dinner’s at eight, and he wants to know if you’re going to make it.”

Startled, Sehun reached for his cell. He’d put it on silent so he wouldn’t be distracted, but when the screen lit up he could see Luhan had also sent a couple of text messages.

Giving Chanyeol an apologetic look, he dialed home quickly, and gave a sigh of relief when he heard Luhan’s voice. 

“I’m sorry,” he said right away. “I swear, I’m on my way out of the office now. Wait for me, okay?”

Luhan’s voice sounded a little rough when he replied, “I was wondering when you’d realize how late it was.”

“I swear,” Sehun said again, standing up and starting to put his things together. “I’m five minutes from walking out of the office. I will be there for dinner.”

Softly, Luhan said, “We’ll wait for you.”

“Go, go,” Chanyeol coached once the call was ended and it was clear that work was done for the night. Chanyeol wasn’t making much of an effort to pick his own things up, but Sehun wasn’t worried. Chanyeol always seemed to go at his own pace. He might spend five more minutes in Sehun’s office, or five more hours. In any case, Sehun was perfectly fine. “Tell Luhan I said hi. We’ll all get lunch soon.”

“He’ll be happy if he can keep a full meal down,” Sehun said, folding his own laptop into his bag. 

“Still?” Chanyeol asked with a wince. “He’s practically in his third trimester at this point.”

“He got a proper diagnosis a couple weeks ago,” Sehun said, hating that he even had to say the words. It wasn’t fair in the least bit that Luhan’s pregnancy had been miserable thusfar. They’d planned for their son. They’d deliberately tried for him and were at a good point in their life to have a second child. It should have been an amazing, smooth event. But instead there’d just been one obstacle after another. “But there isn’t exactly a cure for what he’d dealing with. He just has to drink a lot of fluids and rest as often as possible.”

“Sucks,” Chanyeol eased out. “Tell me if you guys need anything from me. You know I’m here for you.”

Fondly, Sehun replied, “We know. Thanks.”

The drive from Sehun’s office to his work, at least on a Sunday night, typically took around a half hour. The house was further from the main epicenter of Seoul, but not so far that Sehun’s commute was terrible. But as he raced home, he made the drive in twenty minutes.

“I’m home!” Sehun announced, coming through the door so fast he nearly skidded on the hardwood floor. He dumped his keys into the basket by the door, and shed his coat as he waited for a response of any kind. 

There was a thunder of tiny, socked feet pattering on the ground, and then Youri was launching herself up into his arms, hugging him tightly, rushing out, “Daddy, you’re home. Daddy, I missed you.”

“Oh, I missed you too.” Sehun hugged her tightly, soaking in the warmth of her body. She smelled like crayons, so Sehun hoped that meant she’d spent the day with Luhan being creative, and balancing out all of the math and structure they were heaping on her other days. 

Youri leaned back a little in his arms with a scrunched up face and said, “Daddy, baba is sick again. Why’s the baby making him sick?”

Sehuns heart lurched. Couldn’t Luhan go just a little without being sick? But there was the odd contradiction of good smelling food in the air.

“Sehun?”

From the foyer Sehun could just see Wei’s head as it poked around the corner. He had an apron tired around his waist and a concerned look on his face.

Sehun hefted Youri up a little in his arms and asked, “Where’s Luhan? What’s going on?”

Wei pointed up. “He’s laying down. Youri and I were making dinner together so he could rest, and then hopefully he’ll feel up to eating a little later.”

Youri made a soft sound against Sehun’s shoulder and he put a hand against her back. Then he asked Wei, “Nausea?”

“And some dizziness,” Wei confirmed. “It was hard for him to just stand up. He’s been feeling bad since this afternoon, but he didn’t want to say anything to you because he didn’t want to distract you at work.” There was a hint of something accusatory in Wei’s words, but mostly there was just concern, so Sehun let it slide.

“Okay,” Sehun said to Youri putting her down on her feet. “You go help your Uncle Wei finish dinner. I’m going upstairs to check on your baba, and change.”

“Nooo.” She whinned the word out and clung to his legs.

“Youri.” Sehun put a hand down on top of her head, feeling the silky strands of her hair slip through his fingers. “Be a good girl and do as I say.” Now definitely wasn’t the time for a toddler tantrum blowout. 

And mercifully, Youri seemed to understand that. She had a sulk to her behavior as she stormed off towards Wei, but she went.

“He’s wearing himself out,” Wei said finally, scooping Youri up when she came to him and demanded it with a grunt. “Luhan is wearing himself out. This pregnancy is hard on him. he’s struggling.”

Sehun frowned, feeling a brace of defensiveness. “I know that. I’ve been with him every step of the way.” If he could take any of the discomfort, or the pain, or any of it at all, Sehun would have months ago. But he couldn’t, so he stood at Luhan’s side, and helped where he could. “What are you trying to say?”

Wei sighed loudly, and then managed, “Luhan’s always been someone who takes on a lot all at once. He’s great at that sort of thing. He’s the strongest person I know. But he’s not so great at admitting when he needs help. And today just proved that.” Wei turned then, going back to the kitchen.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Pushing Wei completely from his mind, Sehun took the steps up to the second floor two at a time, and then he practically threw himself into the master bedroom. 

“Luhan?” he asked gently, looking into the dark room. The curtains had been pulled in the room, and the only light was coming from the digital clock on the opposite side of the bed that Luhan slept on. “You awake?” He almost hoped that Luhan had managed to get some sleep. It wasn’t unheard of for Luhan to wake in the middle of the night feeling nauseous, or overly thirsty, or just uncomfortable. 

“You’re home.” 

Sehun could have walked the floorplan of the bedroom in his sleep. He certainly didn’t need to turn on the light to make it to Luhan’s side of the bed.

And once he was there, he knelt down on the carpet and reached out for him. His hand found the bump that was their son first, and he pressed down just slightly enough to feel a kick. Then he heaved himself up on the bed, kicked his shoes off, and tucked in close.

He said, nudging his nose into Luhan’s, “You should have called me. You should have told me you were having a rough day. I would have come right home no matter what.”

He could feel Luhan fumbling for a little, and then their hands met, and their fingers slid together. And Luhan said, “I know you would have. That’s why I didn’t.”

“Luhan,” Sehun breathed out.

“You can’t do anything about this,” Luhan insisted. “And while it’s nice to have you here with me, you’re better served at work, getting progress done on your project. You came home to me. You made it home for dinner, and you’re going to read Youri to sleep tonight, and that’s all that matters.”

“I hate this,” Sehun said after a second, landing a somewhat sloppy kiss on the corner of Luhan’s mouth. “I hate that you feel this way.”

He heard a rumble of laughter from Luhan who admitted, “It doesn’t feel to great, let me tell you. But it’s worth it. He’s worth it.”

At that, Sehun squeezed Luhan’s hand. “We can’t just keep calling him by his gender, you realize. Our friends have been suspiciously quiet about a name, but they know we have one picked out. We’re really only bidding our time here.”

The room was warm and the bed was comfortable, and Luhan was the greatest comfort of all, so it was too easy for Sehun to just cuddle next to him and block out the rest of the world. 

“It’s because they have a pool going on,” Luhan revealed. “And if anyone gets caught trying to cheat by getting the answer out early, the whole thing gets invalidated. There’s a lot of money on the line, so no one is willing to risk it.”

“Apparently,” Sehun said with a chuckle. “How long have you know about this? I just found out today.”

This time it was Luhan who was leaning over, and they had a much more proper kiss. 

“Luhan.” Sehun brushed his fingers along the curve of his husband’s jaw. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you today. I’m sorry you have to go through this alone, some days.”

“You’re sorry for being a provider?” Luhan chided. He rolled slightly to the side and tapped the lamp next to the bed. Soft light lit the room, and he added, “You’re telling me you’re sorry that you go to work, and work hard so that we can be safe and secure in our lives?”

Sehun started to protest.

But Luhan continue quickly, “These bills don’t pay themselves. Sehun, do you know how lucky I consider myself? I have a father to my child who sacrifices everything for his daughter, so she can have whatever she needs. And I have a husband who works impossibly hard so that I can indulge in a hobby, and spend my days painting, and not have to worry about if we can afford to go visit Suho in America, or buy that second car. I have that, and I won’t let you take anything away from how much you give, simply because you weren’t here today to hold my hold my hand while I spent a couple hours in the bathroom.”

This, above all else, was why Sehun loved Luhan.

“Do you have any idea how much I’m the lucky one?” Sehun argued back. “I have a partner who’s willing to sacrifice his free time, and his wants, for a little girl who is more than a little bit demanding, and a complete handful.”

“Who I love very much,” Luhan interjected.

“One,” Sehun said, “who dominates my partner’s life completely, and wears him down sometimes, and still keeps him coming back for more. So stop thinking you’re the lucky one. I’m the lucky one. My daughter has the greatest provider in the world. And because of that, she’s going to grow up to do amazing things.”

Luhan gave Sehun’s side a pinch. “How about we just agree that our daughter hit the genetic jackpot.”

“I can do that,” Sehun laughed out as he kissed Luhan’s mouth. He preened against Luhan for just a second more, then asked, “Do you think you’ll be up to eating dinner tonight?”

Luhan’s answer was on his face, but he said anyway, “Probably not. I’ve tried a couple of times now to get down to the kitchen. I’d like to be at the meal, even if I can’t eat any of it. But I’ve gotten about as far as the stairs, before I figured out that wasn’t going to happen.”

Worriedly, Sehun reminded, “Your doctor is afraid you aren’t gaining enough weight. You’re definitely underweight at this point your pregnancy.”

“Oh no,” Luhan said with mock worry, “I won’t get super fat after all? How will I ever manage?”

“You laugh now,” Sehun said, righting himself on the bed and tucking his legs under himself, “but you know underweight can be just as bad as overweight.” He helped Luhan sit up as well, and when that didn’t induce a round of vomit, Sehun suggested, “Let’s try one of those electrolyte drinks. I’ll go get one for you, and then maybe you’ll feel better by the time Youri needs her bath, and is ready for bed.”

Sehun was turning to slide off the bed when Luhan’s fingers caught the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Wait,” Luhan requested.

Sehun had scarcely craned back to him before Luhan’s hands were framing his face and they were kissing deeply. Sehun braced a hand down on the sheets to give himself better support, and then he kissed back with fervor, drinking in the taste that was Luhan.

“I love you,” Luhan said, punctuating every word. “And we’re going to get through this.”

Before Sehun could return the sentiment, the distinct sound of clambering up the stairs could be heard, and then Youri was lurking in the doorway. It was quite obvious how she held back in the threshold, watching the two of them carefully, apprehension on her face.

“Baba?” she asked tentatively. Her Chinese was flawless as she asked Luhan, “Are you okay?”

Luhan beckoned her over. He replied in Chinese, “Come here, Daiyu. And how about we take pity on your father? You know he gets confused when we speak Chinese.”

With a mischievous glint to her eyes, Youri stated, “Daddy should learn Chinese.”

“You better not be talking about me,” Sehun teased, reaching out to tickle Youri.

“No, we’re not, daddy!” Youri said, slipping easily back into Korean. 

“Your baba is okay,” Sehun assured, settling her into his lap. “He’ll be better soon enough. And then you’ll have a little brother.”

Petulantly, Youri crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t wanna brother!”

“I’m sure my sisters all said that at some point,” Sehun joked to Luhan. Then he wrapped his arms around Youri and said, “It’s an amazing, important thing to be a big sister, Youri.”

Youri’s head craned up at him and she said, “I’m a little sister!”

Tapping his fingers against his stomach, Luhan promised, “Becoming a big sister doesn’t mean you can’t be a little sister anymore, Youri. It just means you have a new responsibly, and your job just got very, very important.”

Youri’s eyes got big. “Important?”

“Important,” Sehun agreed. “This baby is going to depend on you for a lot, Youri. Your little brother is going to need you to show him how everything works. You’re going to be his role model. You’re going to be so important to him.”

Sehun could practically feel himself holding his breath as Youri sized Luhan’s stomach up. 

“Okay,” she seemed to finally decide. “Okay. He’s okay.” She leveled a finger up at Luhan’s stomach and ordered, “Stop making baba sick.”

“You’re going to be a great big sister,” Sehun said confidently, kissing the top of her head. “Now, how about we get some dinner.”

As it turned out, Luhan was certainly feeling better by the time food was on the table, but not well enough to join them downstairs. He did, however, hover in the doorway afterwards while Sehun gave Youri a bath with extra bubbles.

“You’ll spoil her,” Luhan warned goodnaturedly.

“My princess gets spoiled,” Sehun defended.

Reading Youri a bedtime story was a pleasure that Sehun reveled in, and then he was happy enough to climb in bed with Luhan afterwards, and pull the blankets up over their legs.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be entertaining Wei right now?” Sehun asked after Luhan made it clear their bed was where he expected them to spend the rest of the night. 

Bumping their feet under the blankets, Luhan said, “Actually, he’s getting some work done right now. His lease might not kick in until the first of the month, but he’s on the clock right now with his job.Plus, if I feel well enough tomorrow, I promised him that I’d take him to met Xiumin finally. He wants to have words with my best friend, as my oldest friend, over who apparently gets bragging rights, for a while now.”

That, Sehun thought, was actually something worth seeing. He almost felt left out. “I imagine that’ll be quite the meeting of minds.”

Luhan nodded in agreement. “Absolutely.”

“Don’t push yourself tomorrow,” Sehun said, unable to ever fully shake worry when it came to Luhan. He’d certainly come a long way from Youri’s pregnancy when he’d hardly been able to function when Luhan was out of sight, but he was equally as sure that he was always going to be a worrier. His therapist claimed that was completely normal and utterly human of him. Go figure. “If you don’t feel good, don’t go. Youri’s going to be at her prep school for four hours. Just rest during that time, and stay home with her afterwards.”

Luhan gave Sehun’s leg a pat. “I do know my own limits, Sehun. I’ll be fine. You worry about overworking yourself, okay?”

“Work is fine,” Sehun lied. He wasn’t going to drop his problems on Luhan any more than he could help. “We’re working a little harder than normal, but it’s fine.”

“You,” Luhan said with a smile to the kiss he delivered to Sehun’s cheek, “are a liar.”

Sehun sputtered.

“Chanyeol has a big mouth,” Luhan provided. “And while he’s smart enough not to say anything to me about it, all it took was one beer with Baekhyun, and Chanyeol was spilling it all out.”

“And you,” Sehun inferred, “are besties with Baekhyun now, so he told you right away. Hey, maybe Wei should be locked in gladiatorial combat with Baekhyun, and not Xiumin.”

Luhan bumped his shoulder against Sehun’s. “Baekhyun and I just … we just understand each other. We understand the way the world works for damaged people. We just get it. It’s hard to explain. It’s not an easy friendship, you know that. It just works.”

“I’m glad it works,” Sehun assured. “I only care that it works. Now, explain in great detail how it works, don’t leave anything out until you’re super sleepy, and completely forget that you know anything about what’s going on with my job right now.”

That seemed to earn Sehun another kiss. 

Luhan said, “How about I just leave the subject alone by saying you are a brilliant artist. You’re a creator and engineer of fantastical things brought to life. You bridge the way between what people think in their head, and what they can see with their eyes. And I know you’re overworked right now. I know you’re stressed out. I know that things are hard and you’re struggling. But you can always confide in me. You can always talk to me, and you won’t be stressing me out or putting pressure on me. I’m your partner, aren’t I?”

“I know I can,” Sehun said with passion. “It’s that I don’t want to. I don’t want to put that on you. I always know I can. I trust you with everything, Luhan. I just … there’s so much you’re dealing with right now. I love you so much, just don’t want to put that on you, regardless if I can or not.”

“I don’t want you to keep it bottled up inside,” Luhan warned. 

Sighing deeply, Sehun sunk a little into the mattress. 

Luhan didn’t speak for some time, the both of them enjoying the comfort of each other and the peaceful silence of the house.

Then Luhan did finally say, “We should have taken Suho up on his offer to go on vacation for the better part of a year in America. We could be eating pizza in New York city right now.”

Sehun chuckled, “You can’t even smell pizza without feeling sick. How were we going to eat it?”

“Then I guess,” Luhan concluded, “we’ll just have to settle for getting all our friends together in one place for a good party. And trust me, I’ll plug my nose with cotton if I have to, to make it through that. I’ll take Dramamine if it comes to it.”

“I’m excited too,” Sehun said. “Some of our friends have been away for too long. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how fast time passes until we look around and take the time to realize we’re getting older.”

Luhan joked, “Too bad it took having a new baby to pull everyone back together.”

Sehun wiggled his eyebrows at Luhan. “We might have to do this every couple of years just to make sure we all come back to each other in the end.”

There was a coy smugness pulling at Luhan’s expression that said he probably wouldn’t be against considering that in the future, and it was all Sehun could hope to ask for. He wasn’t so crazy as to want a dozen little miniature versions of himself and Luhan running around, but maybe just a couple more? He and Luhan were young. A couple more were a nice consideration. 

With a slight giggle, Luhan said, “I hope that wouldn’t be the only reason.”

“Definitely,” Sehun assured, “definitely not.”

They turned in early that night, Luhan managing to eat a bit of plain white rice, and Sehun far too exhausted to do much but burrow into his side and doze. 

But the morning brought a return to routine and form. 

While Luhan slept in, seeming more at peace than Sehun had seen him in weeks, he and Wei treated Youri to a special breakfast at a nearby café, and then had just enough time to walk her to her school.

“I still think it’s a little crazy she’s already getting math lessons,” Wei pointed out as Youri waved furiously to them before ducking into her classroom.

Sehun pointed out, “You’ve spent the past three years working predominantly out of America. You took assignments overseas, but you called that country home for the most part. So I think you can back me up when I say America is much more laid back when it comes to their educational system. I think they really focus on the individuals. It’s different here in Korea. Youri’s going to get swallowed up into a pack of competitive students before she’s six. And no matter what she chooses to do, Luhan and I want her to have the best advantage out there.”

Wei glanced back at the school a final time and said, “I did an editorial piece on the Japanese cram school system. I hear it’s not that different here. I don’t know if it’s that healthy for Youri.”

“I think you should remember that Luhan and I are her parents, and we make the choices about her education.”

Wei put his hands up diplomatically.

And to that, Sehun nodded an apology. “We’re not going to hurt her by pushing her in any way. We just want her to have all the tools she needs to be amazing, regardless of what that amazing is. Got it?”

Wei gave him an understanding look. “Actually, I do. I’ve got it.”

Wei headed off on a nearby bus line to do what he called groundwork research, though he still wasn’t saying which topic he was in the country writing about, and Sehun headed to work. 

And today, going to work didn’t seem such a burden, not like it typically did.

Chanyeol was already there, in the office’s small kitchen, stirring sugar into his coffee.

A little joyfully, Sehun pointed out, “We actually have an assistant now, remember? He can bring you a cup of coffee if that’s what you want.”

“Bah,” Chanyeol said, waving him off. “That’s something can’t get used to. I’m a grown man, and the coffee pot is about thirty feet from my office—less from yours. What do I need another person to bring me coffee for?”

“It’s the job perk,” Sehun laughed out. “Now come on. Ready to get some work done?”

Chanyeol followed after him easily. He commented, “You seem to be in a good mood. That’s a first. You don’t usually become a recognizable human being until at least an hour or two before lunch.”

“I am in a good mood,” Sehun agreed. “I had a good night. I got to spend time with my daughter, I got to eat good food, and I got to relax with my husband who I love more than life itself.”

Chanyeol made a horrified face and put his arms up defensively. “No. Stop. The happiness. The domesticity. It’s horrible. I can’t handle it.”

“And one day,” Sehun ribbed, “you’ll go home to your partner, and your kid, and you’ll delight at the idea of paying your mortgage and going to bed at nine.”

Chanyeol looked at him with a deathly serious look. “You are a despicable human being, Sehun. I can’t even believe how much I hate you right now in this instance.”

“Hurry up,” Sehun urged, “I’ve got a new idea I want to try and work with. I feel like we’ve been looking at all this from the wrong angle. Our ideas aren’t wrong, our perspective is. I want to show you what I mean.”

Practically infused with new energy, he and Chanyeol were able to work out a basic presentation of what direction Sehun wanted to take the project in, and by the end of the day, they were handing it over to their supervisor. 

A little despondent, Chanyeol said, “I know what we did today is our best yet. I know it’s amazing. So why do I feel like we’re still going to get yelled at tomorrow when the client hates it?”

Defiantly, Sehun said, “I don’t care if the client hates it. I don’t care about the client anymore at all. I know this is amazing, Chanyeol. I know it’s the best we’ve ever done. I’m proud of us, and that’s all that matters. That’s all that should matter to you, too.”

Giving him a long look, Chanyeol gave a nod. “Fair point. Okay. Let’s go get a beer to celebrate.”

“A beer?” Sehun asked with uncertainty.

“You’re right,” Chanyeol said decisively, grabbing Sehun by the arm. “Screw beer. We need soju. Let’s go.”


	3. Chapter Three: Luhan

“It’s official,” Wei whistled out. He leveled himself into the car that Luhan had parked in the driveway, and sank into the soft leather seats. 

Luhan watched him do it, watched the look of comfort pass over his face, and then rolled his eyes and asked, “What’s official?” He opened the door to his side of the car and maneuvered his own way in. It took some effort, and some time, but eventually he was in correctly, with the seat in the right position and his seatbelt stretched around the underside of his stomach. 

Wei gave him a decidedly salacious look. “You, Han, are one of those kept sugar babies.”

Laughter burst up out of Luhan’s throat. “A what?”

“Do you have those here in Korea?” Wei asked with his own laugh. “You know, where an older person, typically a man, takes financial care of a younger person, in exchange for sexual favors. A sugar baby.”

Luhan folded a little over the steering wheel and demanded, “When did you get so weird?”

Wei wiggled his eyebrows at Luhan’s stomach. “Clearly there are some major sexual favors going on here.”

Ignoring him, Luhan hit the button to start the car, then the button that would open the gate to the driveway. 

“I mean it,” Wei said good-naturedly.“This is the dream, isn’t it? You get to live in a big, fancy house. You get to drive a nice, new car around. You get to paint all day every day when you’re not knocked up. And some handsome rich boy takes care of all your needs.”

“You’re definitely not my friend,” Luhan decided, backing out onto the street. “America has made you far too impudent.”

Leaning an arm up on the windowsill, Wei teased, “I’m just having some fun at your expense. Though I bet that’s what this really looks like to an outsider.”

Feeling the best he had in a while, Luhan had resolved to make the day count. He’d gotten to sleep in to a delightful hour, and then Xiumin had given him the go-ahead to bring Wei around. Youri was at her preschool, and Sehun was at work, and for a Monday, things were going exceptionally well.

Xiumin’s clinic, where he had his fulltime position, was much further out of Seoul than Luhan really cared for. But it was still technically in the city, and no amount of driving was enough to detour Luhan from getting Wei and Xiumin in the same room together. They were both amazingly good at smothering Luhan with passive-aggressive concern, so he thought they were going to get along swimmingly.

“And I should point out,” Luhan told Wei, “I’m actually several years older than Sehun. He’s practically a baby in comparison.”

“You cradle robber,” Wei accused. 

Pleased at the ease of their conversation, Luhan admitted, “Of course I know that Sehun handles most of the financial needs of the house and family. But that doesn’t make me feel emasculated, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not,” Wei returned.

It felt so good to speak nothing but Chinese. It felt even better to speak it with someone who was Chinese.Sehun had really done his best over the years to try and pick up the basic fundamentals of the language, but he struggled greatly. And too little did Luhan speak to Lay or Tao. And Kris? Kris spoke Chinese perfectly well, but almost never chose to. He’d speak English before he spoke Chinese. It felt like there was a story there, but Luhan wasn’t going to pry. 

“Sehun worked hard to get where he is at his job,” Luhan felt like he had to defend. “It’s not like he’s some trust fund baby who inherited all this money. And contrary to how much you think we must have, it’s not nearly that amount. Sehun bought this house because he sold his old one, and he only had that one because everyone in his family pitched in to help him buy it.”

From the corner of his eye Luhan could see Wei give him a reserved look before asking, “The one he had with his first husband? What was his name? Jae … Jae …”

Luhan felt himself tense naturally. “Jaehyuk. His name was Jaehyuk, but everyone just called him Jae. And yes, that’s the house Sehun had with him.”

Wei eased out, “Jae, who was Suho’s brother?”

“Younger brother.” Luhan nodded. “You’ll meet Suho at the party.”

Wei seemed fine enough with that, and Luhan practically breathed a sigh of relief.

The truth was, over the years Wei had become a confidant. Xiumin was still Luhan’s best friend. And Sehun was still the person that Luhan knew he could tell anything to. But Wei? There was something important to the age of their bond. There as something present between them that made Luhan confide in Wei more than anyone else. 

But on the subject of Jae, and Sehun’s past, Luhan always said very little. The past was Sehun’s, and it was his and only his to divulge where he felt appropriate. And still, so many years down the road, there was pain. There was always going to be pain.

Wei didn’t need to know about any of that, not any more than the basics. So Wei knew that Sehun had been married once before Luhan. Wei knew that Jae had died in an accident, and that Youri had come along quickly after that. But Wei didn’t know much more than that. Luhan planned to keep it that way. 

“As for this thing,” Luhan said, patting the steering wheel when they came to a red light, “Sehun bought this car with his bonus money—the raise he got when he received his promotion to a senior staff member at work. He said we needed a second car.”

Wei scoffed. “Most people don’t need a single car in Seoul.”

Luhan shrugged. “I told Sehun one was more than enough. But he said he’s always out at work, and he always takes his car with him. He wanted me to have a way to transport Youri back and forth from her playdates, and her ballet lessons, and anywhere else we need to go. Especially since there’s going to be a new baby pretty soon.” Luhan leaned towards him to say, “I’ve tried to take the bus with a baby before. It didn’t work out so well.”

Easily Wei reached over the divide between them to brush his fingers over the swell of Luhan’s stomach. “And should you be driving this far in to your pregnancy?”

“Why not?” Luhan was unconcerned with the sentiment. 

Wei offered, “Doesn’t it … get in the way? Your stomach, I mean.”

Luhan snorted in an undignified way. “You sound like Sehun.”

It was more like Sehun had insisted on the necessity of the car before they’d even known that their son was on the way. And then the second they had gotten the lab results, Sehun had practically hidden the car keys.

But Luhan understood why.

“The guy does love to worry,” Wei commented offhandedly. 

“It’s not that,” Luhan said, keeping his focus on the road. He sighed deeply. “Jae died in a car accident. It took Sehun a long time to be okay with things surrounding cars, and I’ll really appreciate if you don’t bring this up to him at all, but there’s still a lot of trauma associated with them.”

Luhan really did get it.

“Oh,” Wei breathed out.

Jae had died on a typical, average walk down to a store he needed to place an order with. He’d died in a crosswalk, with the right of way, and in an utterly freak accident. Because of that, Luhan walked places as little as possible, or didn’t fight Sehun who always wanted him to go with a friend or in a bigger, more visible group of people.

And even thought the circumstances were different, Luhan could understand where anxiety with Luhan driving a car could come from. 

More than once Sehun had woken up in a cold sweat, jarring Luhan awake, babbling about car accidents and babies and heart wrenching outcomes. 

“Me driving makes him nervous,” Luhan stated clearly. “Not because he doesn’t trust me. It’s everyone else on the road he doesn’t trust.”

Wei made a sharp noise and said, “Actually, you know what, I’m totally siding with Sehun on this. People are crazy drivers. You’re not even my husband, that’s not even my kid in there, and I’m already nervous. Do you want me to drive?”

“I’m a great driver!” Luhan defended. “Probably better than you.”

“Probably,” Wei agreed with a laugh. “Remember when we used to play those racing games when we were kids? I suckered my parents into buying me that PlayStation one year, and then you’d come over and we’d race for hours. You were always so serious about winning and doing it right. It just wanted to crash into the other cars.”

At the fond memory, Luhan grinned wide. “I’d get so mad at you. I wanted a real opponent, but you just wanted to have fun.”

“And that,” Wei whistled out, “is definitely the difference between us. You’ve always been focused and driven, no pun intended. I’ve always been the guy who wants to make trouble.”

“You rebel,” Luhan teased. 

“You loved it growing up,” Wei insisted.

“Maybe,” Luhan mused out more quietly, “that’s why I hated seeing what your family made you into.”

Silence fell over the car then, and Luhan regretted his words. 

“Han,” Wei said quietly. “You know I …”

Traffic had been congested near the house, which was deep in a residential area that was packed full of businessmen and women who could all afford cars. But the further they got out from Seoul’s epicenter, from the cars and the people and the speed of it all, the lighter the traffic became. It was even a nice drive to Xiumin’s animal clinic, as the buildings tapered off and the trees became more prevalent. 

“I forgave you a long time ago,” Luhan told him simply. “And I’ve been waiting over three years now for you to forgive yourself. Isn’t that what you went to America for? To figure out who you are and be anyone but that person who tried to hurt me?”

Sullenly, Wei responded, “That doesn’t make it okay that I did what I did.”

“And you think other people don’t have moments in their life they regret?” Luhan scoffed. “That’s part of just being alive. Hindsight. I only care about the person you are now.”

Wei didn’t respond.

So Luhan hedged, “I’ll give you a hint, he’s a pretty good person. The person you are now is someone who tries to do right, and figured out who he is, and is someone I trust and respect. How’s that for your self doubt?”

Wei turned to look out the window and asked, “Is it any mystery how people fall in love with you so easily?”

To that, Luhan had no answer.

But it made him worry.

Because three years ago, when under duress from his parents Wei had attempted to coerce him into the marriage, Luhan had seen a hint of love there. They’d been best friends growing up, and shared a couple of intimate moments, and a spark of something had definitely been there. But it had smothered out long ago on Luhan’s part.

But was Wei still carrying some of that flame for him?

Luhan severely hoped otherwise. 

Desperate to try and change the mood, Luhan said, “I think you and Xiumin are going to get along great. You both like to irritate me with your unnecessary concerns.”

The words were enough to lighten the situation, and Wei remarked, “I don’t think it would be necessary to irritate you with said unnecessary concerns, if you were better at looking after yourself. You want to fix everyone else in the world apparently, Han, but you can’t take three seconds for yourself.”

“Also,” Luhan said, “you’re an animal person. Xiumin loves animals. See? Perfect?”

Wei laughed deep and heavy at that. And then he promised, “I’m going to like your friend, Han. Stop worrying. And even if I hate him, I’ll still fake it for your sake. Seriously, stop worrying.”

Luhan thought Wei was making far too light of the situation. Or maybe he just didn’t understand. Xiumin was everything to Luhan, not just his best friend. And Wei was the only part of Luhan’s past that still mattered to him. They had to get along. They had to like each other. A lot felt like it was riding on the meeting.

“This is it,” Luhan announced when they pulled into the parking lot. 

The clinic itself seemed quiet and mostly empty that Monday morning, and Luhan had certainly been counting on that. Xiumin was the kind of person to get caught up in work, much like Sehun. Xiumin could work through his lunch without so much as a thought to it. But catching him in the morning, before the first appointments of the day started showing up, was best.

“Han.”

Luhan let the car door shut firmly and looked over the roof of the vehicle. “Hm?”

The odd look of worry on Wei’s face staggered him. 

“I…” Wei took a visibility deep breath. 

“What’s wrong?”

The cold was nipping at Luhan, but he ignored it. “Wei?” 

Almost twittering nervously, Wei offered, “I meant to say something to you in the car. I meant to tell you before that, actually I just … I haven’t been able to find the right time, and I don’t want to stress you out, but I …”

“Tell me,” Luhan demanded. He rounded the car in a flash. “Something is wrong. Tell me.” Wei was a direct and upfront person. He hardly ever was at a loss for words, and that was more worrying now to Luhan than anything else. 

“I have to tell you now,” Wei decided. “So you have enough time to decide what to do, and really think it all over, before I leave next week.”

Luhan startled. “Leave? But you’re staying in Korea for the next six months. You said you were.”

Wei gave him a kind look. “I’m living in Korea for the next six months while I work on a series of editorials and a new project. But I’ll be flying out next week for a short trip to China.”

“China.” The word almost felt sour in Luhan’s mouth. “You’re going to China?”

“For personal reasons,” Wei ended up telling him. 

The baby kicked hard into Luhan’s side and he braced a hand there with a wince. “What personal reasons are those? I thought you swore you’d never go back.”

“That was when I was first disowned,” Wei replied, hands fisted deep in his coat pockets. “That was when I was upset and being reactionary, and I thought that my family disowning me meant China disowning me. I’ve had some time to cool down since then, Luhan. I still love China. I still love the food and the people and the culture. I still love that when I go there, it feels like home, even if my family never will again. I don’t need people I’m blood related to, to make China feel like home.”

Luhan gave a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. 

Luhan loved China. With that, Luhan agreed with Wei. China was just as much a part of him as Korea was now. And having Youri had absolutely imparted its importance on Luhan. He needed his daughter to value and embrace China. He needed China to mean something to Youri, and that was only possible if it still meant something to Luhan.

But Luhan was never going back. There was nothing left for him there. China was not home to Luhan. 

Mouth pursed, Wei said in a low voice, “My mother died last month.”

Luhan felt his stomach bottom out. “Oh, Wei. I’m …” He was sorry for Wei. Sorry that his friend had lost someone who’d meant so much to him. But being disowned definitely changed perspectives on people. Maybe Wei wasn’t so upset to see her go. Maybe he was glad.

Maybe Luhan would be glad when his own parents died. Glad and sad. 

“Of course no one sent word to me,” Wei said with a shrug, and gave nothing away about how he was really feeling. But he did take Luhan’s cold fingers between his own to warm them. “But I have a disfavored cousin, one who isn’t likely to inherit anything, and therefore doesn’t care what anyone thinks. You’d like her, Han. She’s a sculptor. She got herself in hot water with the family after she started doing nude sculptures of her girlfriends. The whole thing was hilarious.”

A smile eeked its way out onto Luhan’s face.

Wei pushed on, “Anyway, this disfavored cousin, she’s invited me over to stay with her in Beijing for about a week or so. I have friends over there, too. Friends I kept in touch with. They’re friends who have contact with the family, mine and yours.”

At that, Luhan fowned. His and Wei’s? Their families had always run in the same social sphere. They’d shared many of the same close friends, and the world in which they existed in had been quite small. 

“This is for you.” Wei held out a standard looking white envelope. “A friend passed this to my cousin, and my cousin mailed to me a couple weeks ago. I’ve been trying or figure out how to give it to you—or if I even should. I’ve been looking for the right moment.”

“The right moment,” Luhan scoffed. He had no idea what the envelope was supposed to be. “And you found that moment standing in the parking lot of my best friend’s pet clinc?”

Luhan could feel the card stock in his palm. The weight of it was substantial, indicating quality. 

“Your parents will never speak to you directly again, Han. They’re incapable of communicating with you because of theirchoice to disown you.”

Luhan practically ground out, “What is this?”

“But they can communicate with you if you’re just a proxy,” Wei finished with a sigh.

And then suddenly Luhan recognized the Chinese symbols printed on the top of the envelope. He recognized the slight slant to the writing, and the curve to the way Luhan’s name was written. 

His mother. This envelope was from his mother. 

Luhan’s knees locked up. “How … why … Wei …”

“I don’t know,” Wei said quickly, thrusting his hands back into his coat. “I only know that came from your mother, through a chain of people trusted to keep quiet about it, for me to deliver to you. That’s what I know, Han. And I’m sorry if it’s wrong of me to give this to you, or I’ve upset you. I’m so sorry if that’s the case. But Han …”

The letter. It just didn’t make any sense.

Luhan’s parents had disowned him. They hadn’t just cut ties with him, they had completely disavowed him. It was now as if he had never existed. If they could have taken the blood that ran through him, they would have. And all because Luhan had wanted to be an artists, and had refused to conform to their wishes. 

His parents had kidnapped him, or at least lured him to China under false pretenses, and then kept him there illegally. They’d stolen his passport. They’d kept him prisoner in his childhood home. They had threatened Youri.

The only spot of happiness in it all, the only thing worth remembering, was that Sehun had come. He’d dropped everything, while he himself was still healing, and he’d come for Luhan. He’d come for Luhan and for Youri, and he had saved them.

Still, there was no explanation for why Luhan was now holding a letter from his mother. 

“It’s been three years,” Luhan breathed out. “Over three years. Why would she write to me, a son she doesn’t even recognize anymore?”

“She’s not writing to you,” Wei told him. “She’s not writing to her son. She’s writing to a proxy. Look at the envelope. Look at the way you’re addressed on it. She’s definitely not writing to her son.”

A proxy. She was writing to a proxy? Then who …

Luhan’s knees unlocked in that moment, and he might have gone crashing down if Wei wasn’t there, catching him, shouting at him in surprise. “Han!”

Youri. It was Youri his mother was writing about.

Luhan was Youri’s proxy in this instance. And just because Luhan had been disowned, didn’t meant that Youri had.

“What would my mother want with Youri?” Luhan demanded of Wei, thankful the man was there to help him get his feet underneath him.“What would she want with my daughter? Youri’s only three.” Youri, his precious, precious daughter, was not going anywhere near his family back in China. Over Luhan’s dead body. He’d strugged with the idea of cutting Youri off from the family she had in China. He’d felt ashamed and wrong to do so for so long. But in the end, he felt it was better for her safety. 

Luhan had nightmares of his parents snatching Youri up, and stealing her away. 

Maybe they had wanted to send her away when she’d been inside Luhan, back when the plan had been for Luhan and Wei to marry and have a dynasty of their own. But now Youri was the clear and decisive heir to the Lu family.And Luhan had a sinking suspicion his parents were now beginning to realize that. 

When Luhan was steady on his feet, Wei put his hands up defensively. “I don’t know what’s in that envelope. The seal is still intact. I wouldn’t go through your business anyway. But if I had to reason, I’d have to think that your parents see an opportunity in Youri—in Daiyu, and the look on your face says you think the same thing.

“I will never,” Luhan vowed deeply, “let them get within an ocean of Youri.”

Or the new baby. Oh god, there was the new baby to think about, too. His parents were probably looking at Youri as their only real remaining heir to the family and its future. They were looking at her as a last option. But that might change if they knew Luhan and Sehun’s new baby was a boy. China was still woefully behind in prioritizing children based on their gender, at least in the more traditional families, and Luhan’s was certainly one of those. 

In a final sounding way, Wei said, “I know this is a crappy way for me to spring this on you. But I had to do it now, before I lost the little bit of courage I had left.”

Luhan looked at the envelope in his hands now, shaking slightly. 

“Look,” Wei told him, nudging them towards the clinic. “What you do next, Han, is up to you. If you want to read that letter, for whatever reason, you know I’ll stand beside you. You know I’ll support you no matter what. But you don’t have to open it. You don’t have to read it. I see a trash can from here. If you want to, you can put that right in there, and we can go on like nothing has changed. I only had to bring the letter to you. That was my responsibility. You make the call now.”

He wanted to trash the letter. Of course he wanted to trash it. How could he be a responsible father to Youri—a good one, if he exposed her to the danger that was Luhan’s parents?

But he wanted to know what was in the letter badly. He wanted to know what his parents had to say. If they were a threat to her, or the new baby, Luhan wanted the heads up. He wanted to have the advantage.

And he couldn’t make this kind of decision alone.

“I’ll talk to Sehun about this,” Luhan said with finality. “I have to talk to him about this.”

Wei nodded seriously. “Of course.”

Opening the car door, Luhan set the letting inside, and then leaned a bit on the metal of the car.

“You don’t have to worry,” Wei said, giving him a one armed hugged. “No matter what, Han, we won’t let them do anything to Youri. We won’t let them be a threat.”

Luhan desperately hoped that he’d open the letter and just find that his parents were getting old, and with age came regret. And maybe they didn’t regret disowning Luhan at all, but maybe they did regret losing access to Youri. 

If only this were a case of grandparents just wanting to get to know their granddaughter 

“Who they are, is simply a threat,” Luhan said as he and Wei crossed to the main doors of the vet clinic.

He was fooling himself into thinking his parents just wanted to meet their granddaughter.He’d known he was before he’d even started down that line of thought. Because they had disowned Luhan simply for being himself. They’d given up on him because he wasn’t willing to bow down to their wishes.

Youri was a million times more stubborn and opinionated that Luhan. If they couldn’t accept Luhan as an artist, how could they accept Youri and whatever she planned to do? Luhan could most certainly be assured she wasn’t going to want to sit in a stuffy office all day and look at projected profit graphs. 

“Speaking of threats,” Wei said, holding the door open for Luhan. “Come introduce me to the guy who’s probably going to hit me at some point, for being a threat to you.”

The first laugh in a while bubbled up in Luhan. “Xiumin’s not a fighter. That’s for sure. He can plan dirty when he wants to, but he’s a good person, not violent in the least bit, and more reserved than you’re picturing him. I don’t think you have anything worry about.”

The secretary at the animal clinic waved to Luhan the moment she saw him. Luhan had been hanging around the clinic for some time, ever since Xiumin had gotten his position and needed help getting his office set up. Luhan also tended to have afternoons free several times a week, when Youri went over to Ahra’s after school for her playdates. Luhan preferred to spend that time making such his best friend remembered to eat.

“Is Minseok with anyone right now?” Luhan asked, ignoring the way Wei mouthed the name at him.

“He’s in his office,” the receptionist told him, her hair swaying behind her as she swung her chair over to the phone. “I’ll let him know you’re on your way down the hall and buzz you through. So nice to see you again!”

They were through the door to the back hallway before Luhan explained, “Xiumin’s a nickname. Didn’t I ever mention this to you? When I first came to Korea, the names were difficult for me to master. Xiumin, being Xiumin, decided he’d given himself a Chinese name, then, that I could call him until I could get the hang of Korean names. The nickname just stuck. So his actual name is Kim Minseok, but I call him Xiumin. Most people call him that, actually.”

“The receptionist calls him Minseok,” Wei said, thumbing back in the direction of the teenaged girl. 

Luhan chuckled out, “The receptionist is Xiumin and Eunji's younger cousin. They’re family, not that they'd ever tell anyone that. That whole family is exceptionally professional.”

Wei offered up, “And Eunji is Chen’s wife. Chen is Sehun’s best friend, too.”

“Got it,” Luhan said with another chuckle. “Chen’s not actually his real name, either. It’s just a nickname, too.”

Slowly, Wei shook his head. “This feels more confusing than it needs to be.”

“It gets less confusing the more you get to know everyone. Stick around for a while. You’ll see what I mean.”

Xiumin opened the door to his office long before Luhan got there. And then he was there, filling up the hallway like he was giant, his presence warm and welcoming. He gave Luhan a grand hug and said, “Thanks for coming down to see me.” Xiumin said practically the same thing every time. And Luhan never got tired of hearing the words. 

Not much about Xiumin had changed over the years, actually. Luhan hadn’t really ever expected change from Xiumin, who was steady like the river and unmovable like a mountain. Xiumin had finished school certainly, and taken a year off afterwards to do some traveling. But in the end, Xiumin had come back to Korea. He’d come back to the place he called home, and the friends he called family.

Xiumin looked the same as he ever did, too. He had the same crinkle around his eyes when he smiled, and the same confidence in the way he spoke and acted. The steadiness was something that Luhan depended on often. 

And Xiumin was still the best friend that Luhan could ever ask for.

“Han,” Wei interjected, “introduce us, will you?”

If there’d ever been any reservation in Luhan about Wei and Xiumin getting along, it was dispelled the moment the two men were shaking hands. 

Xiumin said, “So you’re the guy who used to be a jerk, and tried to take advantage of Luhan’s good heart.”

And Wei returned, “Definitely a former jerk. Oh, and it’s nice to meet the guy who tried to run Sehun out of the picture because he wanted to be Youri’s father.”

“Ah, youth,” Xiumin breathed out. 

Then the both of them were laughing and Luhan knew they’d all get along just fine.

“We’re definitely not built to keep a large population at any time,” Xuimin explained as he gave them a tour around the premises. Appointments wouldn’t start showing up for a couple more hours, and Xiumin was the only doctor on the grounds at the moment, so they practically had the whole place to themselves. Luhan had had the tour before, but it was nice to go along again, getting a behind the scenes look at how it all ran.

Maybe it was future useful insight. Youri’s classmate, a particularly liked one, had gotten a puppy for her birthday the previous month. Now Youri talked about wanting a pet at least once a day. Sehun had been adamant at first that they couldn’t handle Youri, a new baby, and a puppy, but Sehun was also weak when it came to Youi. After they had the baby and got used to a new routine, Luhan wouldn’t be surprised if Youri got a new puppy for her next birthday. 

Xiumin took them down to the kennel portion of the clinic. There were a couple dogs and cats in their cages, most of them with the obvious signs that they’d recently under gone treatment. He continued telling them, “But even if we don’t keep a lot of pets at once, we usually have a fair amount of them recovering from procedures before they can be released back to their owners. These are the guys we’re taking care of today.”

Xiumin popped open one of the cages and the dog inside rushed to meet his hand, licking at the offered skin, wet nose nudging at Xiumin’s palm.

“I begged and begged and begged for a dog when I was young,” Wei said, moving to stand next to Xiumin and pet the friendly dog. He scratched lazily at the dog’s fur.

“I remember that,” Luhan agreed. 

Xiumin, head tilting up to look at the much taller man, asked, “You look like you’ve been grown for a while. Why haven’t you gotten one?”

It was almost a little funny to note the difference in height between Wei who was taller than average, and Xiumin who was shorter.But they also made an oddly attractive pair standing next to each other. They were both unseemly in their attractiveness. 

Wei said with an easy grin, “If I could, you’d better believe I would.” Wei bent down to practically fold himself into the cage, lavishing attention on the dog and kissing its head. He gave a deep laugh when the dog licked at his face. “I love animals. I love everything about them. They’re a million times easier to deal with than people. A lot more honest, too.”

Xiumin peered around Wei and said definitively to Luhan, “Okay. I like him. We’ll keep him after all, I guess.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Luhan said, indulgingly. 

“I move around a lot,” Wei told Xiumin, letting him put the dog back fully in the cage so they could move on to the other animals. “I never thought it was fair to get a dog if I wasn’t going to be there a lot of the time.”

Curiously, Xiumin asked, “You move around a lot? Luhan said you were a writer, right? What kind?”

Luhan was happily enough to follow along after them, listening to them chat easily. Xiumin seemed endlessly interested in the kinds of writing that Wei did, from his research to his editorial pieces. And Wei was certainly enamored with Xiumin’s decision to go into veterinary practice. Their friendship was easy to see as it developed before Luhan’s eyes, and it was one less thing to worry about. 

“You should think about boarding,” Xiumin offered to Wei when they got back to his office and were having a round of coffee. Rather, Luhan was enjoying his water, while the smell of caffeine permeated the air. It seemed only ironic and cruel that coffee was one of the few things that didn’t upset Luhan’s stomach, and was also something that his doctor had sworn him off.

Unlike Youri’s pregnancy, Luhan hadn’t developed gestational diabetes from his current one. It was something unexpected, but nothing Luhan was taking for granted. And he wasn’t going to do anything to squander what he’d been given, either. So he ate almost obsessively planned out meals, never snuck anything unhealthy for himself, and was woefully tired of bland foods.

But it would all be worth it when his son was born perfectly healthy, and Luhan’s own recovery was unhindered. So for that alone, he carried on as he was. 

“Boarding?” Wei asked.

“I have a couple friends that have pets,” Xiumin said. “When they have to travel for professional reasons, they board their pets. Pet boarding is becoming something pretty common these days. You could board your dog for as long as you need to settle in to whatever new place you’re going to be living in, and then bring the dog over. I’ve donoe it myself a couple of times.”

Wei pointed to a corkboard across the room that had pictures tacked up on it. There were mostly pictures of Xiumin and his sister, and Xiumin and Luhan and all their friends. But there were also pictures of a brown and white spotted dog. 

Wei asked, “That yours?”

“It sure is,” Luhan interjected for Xiumin. He shot his best friend a faux dirty look. “Youri likes to go over to Xiumin’s house all the time. She likes his house more than her own, because Xiumin has a dog with an unless amount of energy.”

“I’ve got a big backyard,” Xiumin supplied. “That’s out of the normal for Seoul. So Youri and the dog have plenty of room to run around. Luhan, really, you should be thanking me. I get her tired out for you so you can take her home and she’ll sleep. If anything, you owe me.”

“Fair point,” Luhan allowed.

“Maybe I’ll give it some more thought,” Wei said, with a firm nod. “It’d be nice to have someone waiting for me at the end of the day when I get home. Even a dog.”

At that, Xiumin gave a firm nod. “There are several shelters in the area with many, many pets that need new homes. And take it from me, if you adopt a dog or a cat, they’re always going to be there waiting for you at the end of the day. Unconditinally.” 

And though it was faint, Luhan felt a stab of guilt. He’d spent the better part of three years trying to set Xiumin up on dates, get him out into more social situations, and get his best friend’s mind away from a relationship that would never happen. He knew that Xiumin had accepted long ago that they would only be friends, but Luhan also knew that love wasn’t so hard to squash out. 

So far, Xiumin had resisted. Though he’d humored Luhan for a few months at best, in the end, he’d become more a lurker. He’d kept to himself, making no effort to peruse any kind of relationship with anyone, and it bothered Luhan. 

Luhan didn’t want to see Xiumin go home to an empty house at night. He didn’t want to see his best friend not find someone. 

And no, as much as Xiumin seemed to think a dog was a good substitute, Luhan didn’t agree. 

“You should come over and meet my dog,” Xiumin said, bringing Luhan back to the conversation unfolding. Xiumin looked from Wei to Luhan. “Youri hasn’t been over in about a week.You should all come over.”

That was actually unexpected, as far as Luhan was concerned. Xiumin was a fiercely private person, and he almost never entertained at his home. Especially with people he didn’t know. Luhan and their close group of friends always seemed the exception, and not the rule.

Wei gave the most enthusiastic smile Luhan had seen from him in some time. “I’d really like that. I’d like it if you introduced me to your dog.”

“Good,” Xiumin returned. “I would too, I mean …”

Xiumin was blushing. 

Luhan was confounded. 

Xiumin was actually blushing? And was Wei … oh, wow. Wei was looking at Xiumin with interest Luhan had never seen from him before.

No way.

Not possible.

Luhan snorted a little to himself. This was utterly adorable.Unexpected. But adorable. 

Eventually, however, Luhan and Wei needed to leave. Xiumin’s first appointment of the day had arrived, and it was Luhan’s day to pick Youri and Ahra up for their playdate. He needed enough time to get the finger painting set up, he’d promised the girls last week that they could each make something on sheets of canvas just like Luhan painted on.

Baekhyun often joked, “If you make my daughter into a no good, lazy painter like you, Luhan, I’ll never forgive you.”

But Luhan certainly had seen all of the little arts and crafts that Ahra did scattered around Baekhyun and Taeyeon’s house. He saved every scrap of work that Ahra did, and Baekhyun wasn’t fooling anyone.

“So I’ll see you at the party then?” Xiumin asked as he waked them out to Luhan’s car. “You’ll be there, Wei?”

Luhan leaned an arm up against the car and watched amusedly as Wei replied, “I promised Luhan I’d go. I mean, I’m not sure why he wants me to come a party with a bunch of people I’ve never met before, excluding Sehun, but a promise is a promise.”

“And me,” Xiumin said, with still a hint of pinkness to his features. “I’ll be there. So that’s at least one more person you’ll know. Plus, you’re important to Luhan.Don’t you want to be important to the friends he considers family?”

One side of Wei’s mouth quirked upward. “I guess I do.”

Xiumin gave a small chuckle. “I guess I’ll see you there, then.” He offered a wave to Luhan, then headed back inside.

“See,” Luhan teased when Xiumin was safely inside. “He didn’t even hit you. He actually likes, you Wei. You had nothing to worry about.”

“I guess not,” Wei said pleasantly.

Luhan was still practically giddy about the meeting for the rest of the day. So much so that he set the letter from his mother aside in Sehun’s office and promptly forgot about it.Maybe he made himself forget about it, between the regular routine of dinner and bath time and a bedtime story reading. 

And then, if there was a moment afterwards, with Wei working in his bedroom on his laptop, and Youri upstairs sleeping, it was lost as Chanyeol all but dragged a visibly drunk Sehun through the front door only an hour or so before midnight.

“When you sent me a message saying you were going out of drinks after work,” Luhan said pointedly, arms crossed over his pajamas, “I didn’t expect this.” He certainly wasn’t mad. Sehun hardly ever drank, and he deserved to unwind once in a while. But the sight was as unseemly as it was unexpected. 

“Oh, Luhan,” Sehun slurred out, stumbling his way over. “You are so pretty. You are just, oh, man, Chanyeol, Channnnyyeoool. Look how pretty Luhan is.”

“I see you two got a little carried away,” Luhan commented.

“We only had this many,” Chanyeol defended, holding four fingers, and then five, and then he seemed to get confused and give up with a shrug. 

“I looovee you,” Sehun sighed out into Luhan’s shoulder, smelling strongly of soju. “I love you and Youri and Ja—”

“Sehun!” Luhan practically laid him on the ground in an attempt to quiet him. “Keep quiet!” From his spot on the floor, Sehun let out a grand laugh.

Chanyeol looked at Luhan with wide eyes.

“You heard nothing,” Luhan warned. They planned to make the grand reveal of their son’s name at the party and not a second sooner. No one knew besides them, not even Sehun’s mother or sisters, knew what it was. Luhan hadn’t held in their choice for a name for so long, only to have it ruined in one drunken moment.

Especially if Chanyeol found out. If Chanyeol knew the name, everyone would know in less than a half hour. 

“Luhan?” Wei stuck his head out of his bedroom. “What’s going on?”

Luhan sighed. “I need your help.”

It took twenty minutes to get everything sorted out. But by the time it was, Wei had done enough heavy lifting to get Sehun upstairs and to the bedroom, and Chanyeol stuffed in the car.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much trouble?” Luhan asked, pressing his car keys into Wei’s palm. “Chanyeol can just sleep downstairs in the living room. He and Sehun had enough sense thankfully to take a cab home, and they can go get the car tomorrow. You don’t need to drive Chanyeol home.”

“He doesn’t live far, right? You gave me directions and he doesn’t life far, anyway. I’ll take him home, make sure he gets in safely, and then come back. It’s not a big deal. I swear. Plus, that gives you enough time to get Sehun settled in.”

Luhan gave him another appreciative look, then took the stairs slowly to get to Sehun.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Luhan said, wrangling Sehun out of his clothing and then smoothing back the hair that fell across Sehun’s forehead. 

Sehun stared at him with a goofy smile and kind eyes. “I love you,” he said happily, hugging a pillow tightly to his chest.

“I love you too,” Luhan said indulgingly, pulling the blankets up over him. Then he rounded the bed to his side and slid in. “But you’re going to hate yourself in the morning when you wake up.”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” Sehun defended woozily. “Maybe just like … six or seven … or ten … or …”

Luhan pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Tough day at work? You never drink, Sehun.”

“Good day!” Sehun defended. “I don’t care what that asshole Lee says. My work is soooooo good. I’m soooooo the best.”

Luhan teased, “You’re sooooo drunk.”

Sehun gave a soft snort, then tucked into Luhan’s side sleepily.

“I’m glad you went out with Chanyeol,” Luhan soothed, running his hand up and down Sehun’s back. “You deserve to go out with your friend and unwind.You work hard. You can have a night of soju if you want it.”

“Nah,” Sehun murmured sleepily. “I just want you.”

Luhan found Sehun’s hand and slotted their fingers together. And in the warmth and comfort of their home, he assured back, “I just want you, too.”

Half an hour later Wei was back from having dropped Chanyeol off, and then the house was quiet until morning.


	4. Chapter Four: Sehun

“What is this life? Let me die.” Sehun crashed down hard against the kitchen table, his body heavy and weary, and his head thundering with pain. He clenched his eyes closed and tried to block out the world around him.

Death was preferable to living at the moment, and he felt like an absolute idiot for letting Chanyeol talk him into multiple bottles of soju.

He wasn’t that twenty something year old right out of college who could challenge and win a soju drinking contest. And he’d forgotten that the night before. Stupidly.

The cool feeling of the table under him was a godsend, but then Luhan’s voice cut through the air, “Head off the table, Sehun. Try to set a good example for your daughter, please. If she sees you doing that, she’ll want to. Then you get to explain to her why you can do something she can’t. Do you want that headache?”

Sehun squinted his eyes open at Luhan. “Headache? That’s the word I heard. In that entire lecture, I heard the word headache. And yes, I can confirm, I have a headache. Or possibly a stroke. I’ll get back to you on that.”

From his spot near the stove, Luhan gave him a pointed look of no mercy. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and Sehun was suddenly struck by the prominence of the swell at his stomach.

It suddenly dawned on him how long it had been since he really and truly looked at the progress of Luhan’s pregnancy. He’d fallen into such a comfortable feeling with it that he was hardly obsessing over every small thing like he had when Luhan had been pregnant with Youri. He could still be found in the middle of a panic attack every once in a while when Luhan ate too much dairy, but for the most part, he was at ease with the pregnancy.

Sadly, that meat he didn’t take in the shape of Luhan too frequently. If he had, he would have realized the smooth curve to Luhan’s stomach now, and how anyone looking could currently see that Luhan wasn’t too far out from his third trimester. And boy did the swell of pregnancy make Luhan look gorgeous. He was always something magnificent to look at, but right now, glowing and rounded, he was a deity to behold.

Sehun wanted to drag himself up from the kitchen table and run his hands reverently along Luhan’s stomach.

He was just afraid if he tried, he might end up face down on the floor.

From her booster seat across from Sehun at the table, Youri asked tentatively, “Daddy? Are you hurt?” Her head tilted in a way that had her bangs falling into her line of sight.

“Just my pride as a man,” Sehun groaned out.

Luhan swept closer to the table and bent to kiss the top of Youri’s forehead. He said, “Your daddy is just learning the hard way what it means to have too much of a good time. He’ll be fine.”

Glaring at the bright light in the room, Sehun asked Luhan, “Can you be a sympathetic husband to me right now? Be good to me.”

Luhan rolled his eyes. “You have work in an hour. Better start making yourself a presentable human being soon.”

Youri dug her tiny plastic spoon in to her portage and held it out to Sehun. “Here, daddy. Eat.”

Sehun took the spoon from her and made an exaggerated sound of pleasure as he ate it down.

Youri giggled loudly and snatched the spoon back so she could eat in earnest. Luhan was there a second later to whisper in Sehun’s hear, “You’re a good father, even when you’re hung over.”

One strong cup of coffee later and Sehun felt more like a human being. Youri had since finished her breakfast and gotten cleaned up. She had her backpack on and was bouncing happily next to Wei as he put his jacket on. She’d been a ball of energy ever since Wei had agreed to take her to her school that morning.

Sehun was starting to really appreciate having Wei around, now. Not only was he helping to take some of the burden off Luhan when it came to Youri, but he was kind of like a built in babysitter now. And a babysitter for Youri meant more time Sehun could spend with Luhan.

It certainly wasn’t as if Youri was a regret of any kind. Sehun loved her more than oxygen. She was more precious to him than he had ever thought possible. She was his world and his everything.

But Youri was infinitely demanding. And her presence from the start had really detracted the amount of time Sehun and Luhan had exclusively for each other. She’d been conceived so suddenly that everything had been done out of order. Part of Sehun missed that he and Luhan hadn’t had a couple of years just to themselves before children came along.

Wei was making it easier for them to steal moments just for themselves.

“Ready?” Wei asked when he had his stuff gathered up. He’d mentioned earlier that he was headed out to do some work.  “Got everything, Daiyu?”

Youri preened when he said her Chinese name, and she replied loudly in Chinese.

Sehun looked over to Luhan and said, “If she starts greeting me in the morning in Chinese, I draw the line.”

Luhan ribbed, “You’re just jealous our three year old speaks better Chinese than you, and you’ve been trying to learn longer than she’s been alive.”

Youri called out a goodbye to them, and Sehun took the opportunity to catch Luhan by the waist and swing him in close. He murmured against Luhan’s mouth, “I’m definitely not jealous of our three-year-old.” Then he was kissing Luhan hard and fast, happy that Luhan felt well enough to partake in the activity.

“This,” Luhan breathed out against him, sagging against Sehun in a comfortable way. “I missed this.”

“It’s hard to catch a second,” Sehun agreed, “when your kid is vying for attention every second of every day.”

Luhan wrapped his arms around Sehun’s neck lovingly. “I would make a comment about how we’re lucky Youri will be going off to a more structured school in the next couple years, to get a more focused education, but by then we’ll have this guy.” Luhan was sure to bump his stomach against Sehun.

Like a homing beacon, Sehun’s hands found their way to the swell.

“I’m so excited for him,” Sehun confessed, feeling his face heat a little. “I love Youri so much. She’s my everything. But this guy, a son, he makes the family feel rounded out. I can’t wait to hold him in my arms.”

Luhan confessed, “I’m excited to be able to eat any kind of meat. One can only survive so long on white rice.”

“He’s not doing it on purpose,” Sehun said confidently, stroking his fingers across Luhan’s stomach. He felt the ripple of movement follow after him. “He’s a good baby too, right?”

Luhan indulged, “He barely sits on my bladder, he rarely kicks my kidney, and you’re right, I haven’t had any cravings for impossible foods, so yes, he’s a good baby.”

Sehun pulled Luhan a little more closer, practically folding over him. “I’m so happy right now.”

“Maybe now,” Luhan chided, “you’ll finally start believing me when I say we get out happy ending.”

Cheekily, Sehun asked, “Speaking of happy endings, want to join me upstairs?” He wiggled his eyebrows for effect.

“You’re despicable, truly,” Luhan said, but there was nothing but amusement on his face. “What was I thinking to even marry you?”

Sehun made sure to flounce imaginary hair over his shoulder. “I’m sure you were thinking how amazingly lucky you are that such an amazing, perfect, incredibly tremendous person would even give you the time of day.”

Luhan pinched his side. “Definitely that.”

Fondly, Sehun stroked a hand down Luhna’s face, his fingers framing Luhan’s jaw so he could kiss him in a sweet way. “I love you,” he vowed, as he had a million times before. “I love you more than I can ever really say, and I hope that you understand a fraction of how much I love you. I love you so much.”

He felt nothing but a rush of desire in the way Luhan looked back at him, then leaned in to kiss him.

“You’re about to be late for work,” Luhan cautioned.

Sehun replied, “I am perfectly okay with that.”

Late was an understatement.

Chanyeol gave him a long whistle when he finally tried to slip into his office unannounced. Chanyeol called after him and asked, “I know Luhan’s hot and all, but should you really be getting reacquainted with him on the company’s time? The guy’s already pregnant, Sehun. You can’t get him that way again.”

Sehun collapsed at his desk and asked him in an impossible way, “How can you possible know … you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Chanyeol pointed to his head.

Sehun reached up to pat down his hair. “What?”

“It’s all in the hair,” Chanyeol laughed out.  “Here’s a hint: it’s always the hair.”

Sehun scowled at him. But a second later he cooled enough to ask, “Have you heard anything about what we turned in yesterday?”

“You mean has the boss started yelling yet?” Chanyeon asked. He took a seat at the sofa in the corner of the room. “The answer, surprisingly, is no.”

“No?” Sehun’s eyebrows rose. He could hardly believe it. He actually couldn’t. “No way. President Lee has had more than enough time to review our work, pick it apart, and then tear it to shreds. He should have been screaming hours ago.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol chuckled, “is that why you were late? So I got yelled at and not you?”

“Didn’t you offer to be the one who gets yelled at this time?”

Chanyeol only slumped a little. “I’m just glad there’s no yelling period. There’s a jackhammer going off in my head right now. And I’m surprise you’re even walking straight.”

“Strong coffee this morning,” Sehun justified.

“And then some,” Chanyeol snickered. He sat up proper. “The boss is in, I know that much. But he’s been cooped up in his office since I got here hours ago. Not even the secretary is going in and out. So chances are, the boss is putting together our severance packages.”

Sehun’s eyes widened. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Not when Sehun had a new baby on the way. Luhan’s art, three years down the, was selling well enough when he produced it. Luhan’s art in fact was becoming something of a novelty in certain circles in Seoul. But Luhan was an artist in every sense of the word. He could only pain when his muse allowed it, and his inspiration came and went easily. Luhan was certainly spectacularly talented, but if Sehun lost his job, his art wasn’t anything that would bring in a stable income. Especially since Luhan hadn’t painted in months, not since he’d learned of his pregnancy.

Sehun couldn’t lose his job. He had to support his family, especially as it expanded. There couldn’t be any other alternative.

“Don’t even joke,” Sehun warned.

“Then I don’t know what he’s doing in there,” Chanyeol shrugged. “Maybe it isn’t even anything related to our project. I just know there’s been no word on what he thinks of what we put in yesterday, and that’s making me nervous as hell.”

Confused, Sehun asked, “Should we go ask?”

“Hell no,” Chanyeol snapped out. “Look, I already tried that. I got within about a dozen feet of the boss’s office, and his secretary nearly ran me down. Apparently no one goes in right now, not until the boss decides.”

Leaning an elbow up on his desk, Sehun wondered, “Then what are we supposed to work on until that happens? That was our only project. We don’t have anything else to work on in the meanwhile.”

Chanyeol launched himself up off the sofa and over to Sehun’s desk. “Actually,” he drawled out, “I was kind of thinking, how about we go make a quick trip to the train station?” He checked his watch. “And by quick I mean really quick. You running late really put a strain on my plans for today.”

“You’re talking gibberish,” Sehun decided.

“Put your coat on,” Chanyeol needled. “And hey, you got your car from the bar already, right?”

“How do you think I got here?” Sehun asked. He’d been even later into the office than expected because he’d needed Luhan to take him to the bar before hand. But thankfully his car had been waiting for him in the parking lot, untouched and pristine as ever.

“Good, good.”

Getting up to his feet, Sehun wondered, “The train station?”

“Time’s a wasting,” Chanyeol said gleefully. “And trust me, this’ll be worth it.”

“You realize,” Sehun told him when the arrived at the train station and parked the car, “this is why people don’t trust you.  You make us all nervous with sercets.”

Chanyeol didn’t look offended in the least bit. He merely returned, “And you realize this is the reason we all laugh about you when you’re not in the room.”

“This?”

“How dense and forgetful you are some times.”

Sehun gave him an unsure look.

Chanyeol pressed, “Don’t you know what today is? Haven’t you figured it out by why we’re here?”

Sehun turned form Chanyol to give a proper look around the train station. The soju from the night before and the stress from work seemed to be eating away at his memory.

“You’re a terrible best friend,” Chanyeol whistled out as he walked by.

A second more and Chanyeol’s words crashed into him.

Sehun was taking off in a blur after that, leaving Chanyeol in the dust, desperate to get to the train that was only minutes away from arriving.

“I forgot,” Sehun confessed to Chanyeol when they were waiting on the platform for the train. “I forgot and you’re right, I’m a terrible best friend.”

Chen.

It was Chen they were here for. It was Tuesday, at half past ten, and Chen was meant to come in on the train at that time. It had completely slipped from Sehun’s mind, like it wasn’t even important, and now Sehun felt ashamed. Chen was his best friend, even if their relationship was more long distance now than anything else.

“It’s Chen,” Sehun admitted out loud. “I forgot about Chen.”

How could he have forgotten Chen?

“I know, I know,” Chanyeol waved off, “he made a big deal about us not being here to get him from the station when he gets in, but that’s bullshit. He’s our friend. So we’re here.”

Less than a week ago Sehun had talked at length with Chen about what his schedule looked like for his stay in Korea. And Chen had stated that he and Eunju were meant to stay with her parents down in the south. Her parents had purchased  vacation home near Jeju a year ago, and Eunji wanted to stay with them when they arrived back in Korea from Taiwan. And then Chen and Eunji planned to take the train up to Seoul afterwards, to stay for a couple weeks before leaving the country again.

Sehun wasn’t sure, be he thought he remembered Chen saying something about them staying with Xiumin. But no matter where Chen was going to be living for a couple of weeks, Sehun was just happy to have him near again.

This time, Sehun was determined to find out what the waver in Chen’s voice was, whenever the topic of children came up. Something was wrong. Sehun could sense that much without prying at all. Something was definitely wrong, and Sehun planned to find out what was.

“Thank you, Chanyeol,” Sehun said earnestly, turning to him. “Thank you for remembering.”

Chanyeol gave him an easy smile. “You get stressed out about things easily, Sehun. And the first thing that goes is your memory. But I’ve got your back.” Chanyeol always certainly seemed to.

The train was running a couple of minutes late, but not by much. And Sehun was practically vibrating on his feet when the train came to a stop and the first people started disembarking.

“Tell me when you see him,” Sehun said anxiously. “We have to catch him before he leaves. He doesn’t know we’re here.”

“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol assured. “My height’s good for something!”

For all of Chanyeol’s height, it was actually Sehun who did spot Chen. His best friend was stepping down from the train with a suitcase in hand, when Sehun recognized the same old blue jacket that Chen had had for years and years, refusing to throw away. It was going thin, the material fraying, but Chen said it was a good luck jacket, and that it was too comfortable to abandon.

Sehun would have known that jacket anywhere.

“Chen!”

Sehun practically plowed through the people littered along the station, before catching Chen in a strong hug and lifting him off his feet.

“Sehun!” Chen laughed out, hugging him back in surprise and happiness. “What are you doing here?”

“My best friend comes into town for the first time in ten months and you think I’m not going to be here?”

“Oh, the details,” Chanyeol singsonged, appearing at their side.

“Chanyeol,” Chen breathed out, reaching over to hug him as well.

“Where’s Eunji?” Sehun asked, turning to look back to the train. He expected her to be with him, or at least just a couple seconds behind. But she wasn’t. So where was she?

“Sehun,” Chen eased out slowly, looking nervous and awkward all at once.

“Is she here?” Chanyeol’s head craned around.

“No,” Chen said simply.

There were a million questions running through Sehun’s mind. He wanted to ask at least half of them in that moment. But the platform was terribly crowded, and he didn’t like the look of unease on his best friend’s face. So instead he asked, “Are you hungry? You must be hungry.”

Chen laughed, “It’s not even eleven yet.”

“We should go get food anyway. Come on.”

“Don’t you have work?” Chen asked.

“Surprisingly enough,” Chanyeol answered for them both, “not at the moment. Our boss might be having a meltdown of some kind, and we’re free until we know for sure. So, food?”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Chen shrugged. “Food.”

They loaded Chen’s bag up into Sehuns car, then piled in. And then Sehun drove them halfway across Seoul to the noddle house he and Chen had spent most of their high school and college years eating at. They knew the proprietors by name, and had put so much money into the restaurant that they’d practically paid for the owner’s daughter to go to college. It was a place that looked and smelled like home as much as it tasted, and it was the definition of comfort.

And maybe they ordered too much food for three people to eat, even three grown men. But money was the least of Sehun’s concerns at the second, and all that mattered to him in the moment was getting Chen settled down, and enjoying time with his friends.

“So,” Chanyeol let slip out slowly, throwing Sehun a sly look, “how much do we have to eat, and how much time has to pass, before you tell us why you showed up here without your wife? You know, for a party that’s supposed to be all of us friends and family getting together for the first time in years.”

With a mouth full of squid ink noodles, Chen huffed a little. Then he swallowed the food down and said, “At least another round of side dishes, and about wenty minuets.”

Chanyeol remarked lowly, “Oh no.”

Sehun concurred. That wasn’t good at all.

It was more like forty minutes later before Chen was willing to say anything. But at least then he put his chopsticks down, wiped his mouth, and said, “Eunji’s staying with her parents. She won’t be coming up here. She won’t … I …”

His mouth going dry, Sehun asked, “What’s wrong?”

Eunji and Chen had always seemed to have a fairytale romance of sorts. They were based out of Taiwan now, where Eunji had a research grant so she could pioneer new techniques in a rapidly advancing medical field. And Chen was being independently contracted for his photography in such a way that he was a success by every definition. They traveled well enough, they owned property, and the last time Sehun had seen them, they’d looked just as in love as they ought to be.

But even Sehun had known everything wasn’t what it seemed. He’d known for some time now that there was an issue shoving its way between them, and that the happy façade that they always put on, was just that. A façade.

Sehun had tried asking before. He’d tried subtlely getting the answer out of Chen. But Chen had been especially tight lipped about it all, and given few hints. Other than the issue being something to do with children, or Sehun knew nothing.

Sehun was frightened to think that Chen was deliberately not saying anything to him, because of Sehun’s previous trauma. He wanted to think that Chen knew they could talk about anything. But Chen was also incredibly empathic to Sehun’s past, and Sehun didn’t put it past Chen to hold back because of it.

“So she’s not coming up,” Sehun repeated slowly. “Why?”

“Don’t lie to us,” Chanyeol cut in, his voice surprisingly soft. “We’ve all been through some bad shit together. We’ve survived it all.  We can talk to each other about anything. We know each other’s dirty laundry like wow.”

“Like wow?” Sehun questioned.

“That much,” Chanyeol insisted. He said even more serious, “We don’t judge each other. And we don’t gossip about each other. We’re more brothers than anything else. So just tell us what’s going on, Chen, and let us help if we can.”

“You can’t,” Chen said simply, but there wasn’t any anger to his voice. “Eunji and I are just trying to work some things out right now.”

“So you’re fighting,” Sehun inferred.

Chen tapped his fingers along the surface of the low table they were sitting at. Then, after a brief pause, he said, “Yes.”

“About what?” Chanyeol wondered. “You guys were practically made for each other. What would you two have to fight about? You’re both attractive, smart, funny people. You’re also about as in love as I’ve seen two people be, next to Sehun and Luhan who shame us all.”

“Funny,” Sehun commented wryly.

A smile cracked on Chen’s face, however, and he said, “Actually, truer words were never spoken I think, Chanyeol. You’re right. Luhan and Sehun are spectacularly disgusting with their sordid love affair. I’m not even sure how we put up with them.”

Sehun clutched at his chest. “Chen! You’re supposed to be my best friend. How can you wound me like this?”

“I don’t know,” Chen tossed back leisurely, “how could you replace me with an artist?”

“You’re a photographer!”

“I’m a photojournalist.” Chen upturned his nose.

“Oh, spare me,” Sehun exhaled. A second later he laughed, revealing there was no tension between them at all.

“Eunji and I just …” Chen finally said, bringing them back to a moment of seriousness, “we’re just trying to work something important out. We can’t agree on what to do, or what we should do, or even what’s best for us. We’ve never really fought before, you know. So that’s why this is so … terrible. At least that’s why I think.”

Sehun asked with a wince, “She’s not going to come up here at all? Not even for the party?”

Chen shook his head. “She planned to, but yesterday we had a pretty big fight. It’s the biggest one we’ve ever had, and she decided that she needed to stay with her parents, and talk to them, and just get some space from me.” Chen offered to Sehun, “She did ask me to apologize to Luhan. She knows how important this gathering is to him, and she wanted to be here. It just … it isn’t the place she needs to be, and that’s the difference.”

“Luhan will understand,” Sehun assured. “But are you okay? A man’s wife says she needs space, and she doesn’t travel with him. That’s not good.”

Che chortled, “We’re not breaking up, if that’s what you two are worried about. But Eunji and I … we’re just not sure where we go from here.”

It was clear to Sehun, and probably to Chanyeol, that Chen was purposely evading the matter at hand. He was talking without saying much at all. And if Sehun wanted to, he knew he could confront Chen about it.

But there was time for that, and Chen had only just come into town. There’d be plenty of time for Sehun to have a sit down with Chen and talk to him privately. There’d be days and days of opportunity coming up.

And for now, Sehun just wanted to enjoy time with his best friend, who he hadn’t seen in close to a year. He wanted to just spend time with Chen, and no Chen’s problems.

He had a good feeling Chen felt the same way.

“How about,” Sehun proposed, “we just talk about good things? You’re in town finally, everyone is healthy, and we’re going to have a party.”

Chanyeol raised his drink towards them. “I’m all for that. Good idea, Sehun.”

Chen raised his own cup and declared, “I’m really glad to be here. No matter what, don’t doubt that. You’re my friends. This is where I grew up and worked for a long time. Coming here feels like coming home.

“To friends, then?” Sehun asked, the last to raise his cup.

“To friends,” Chen and Chanyeol agreed.

Sehun had meant lunch to be a short affair,  because Chen needed to get settled in to where he was staying, and both Sehun and Chanyeol had to get back to work eventually, if only to figure out what was going on.

But Chen was Sehun’s best friend. And Chanyeol was the guy who’d stood next to Sehun the most in Chen’s absence. In many, many ways, Chanyeol had really filled the void that both Chen and Suho had left by moving away. Sehun certainly wasn’t besmirching either of them the right to move on with their lives and do what they wanted. But Chanyeol had stayed firmly rooted in Seoul, and he’d been the one Sehun turned to for many things.

So being in a room with Chen and Chanyeol, who next to Luhan and Suho were the most important people in his life, meant that it was too easy to lose track of time.

It was only when Sehun’s waistline was protesting heavily from the food they kept ordering, and Chen was yawning like he wanted a nap, did the actual hour come to light.

Chanyeol’s eyes bugged out of his face when he saw, and he commented, “Well, if we weren’t being considered for being fired before, we are now.”

Sehun groaned and put his face in his hands.

“Go back to work, you lazy bums,” Chen chuckled out. He was reaching to pay the bill and Sehun snatched the item out of his hand. Chen pointed out, “If you pay that, Luhan is going to find out, you know he will, and he’s going to have you sleeping on the sofa for a week for it.”

Confidently, Sehun slid is credit card out of his wallet and said, “Haha, but you’re wrong. Luhan’s circulation is pretty compromised because of the baby. That means he’s always cold. There’s no way he’ll give up a built in heater like me at night.”

Chen eyed him, then proposed, “I don’t know. Don’t you have Luhan’s Chinese friend staying with you right now? Seems like he’s got a different source of body heat if he wants it.”

Chanyeol teased, “A tall, muscled, hunk of body heat, actually. Chen, have you seen a picture? Let me should you a picture of this Adonis.”

Sehun announced, “I’m officially rescinding our friendship. That’s it. It’s gone. Kiss it goodbye.”

As a fair compromise, Chanyeol and Sehun ended up splitting the bill evenly. They refused to let Chen contribute in any way, citing him as their guest, and then the three of them piled back in the car and took off for the real world again.

“Come over for dinner soon,” Sehun pleaded with Chen when they were dropping him off in front of Xiumin’s home. “Luhan will be so happy to see you again, and Youri’s been asking when her Uncle Chen is going to come visit her. We’ll find a good day for all of us before Saturday, and you should come over and just spend some time with us.”

“Take it,” Chanyeol urged. “Sehun never likes to share Luhan.”

Chen promised, “We’ll work it out. I promise. Now get back to work.” He gave them a longer than average wave, and then slipped inside the house.

They were practically back to the office when Chanyeol asked, “Over or under fifty percent Lee has finally come out of his office and is wondering where his two best employees are?”

“Best or worst, depending,” Sehun corrected. “And I’m not taking that bet.  I’ll grovel for my job if I have to. I’ll beg and plead.” There would never come a time where he wasn’t a husband or father who could provide for his family. No matter what. No matter the cost.

Nothing was seemingly out of place or different when they returned to the office, and Sehun wasn’t sure whether to be glad or not. The boss’s door was still firmly shut, and the secretary still had nothing but a bewildered look and a shrug.

Chanyeol went back to his office, and Sehun to his own.

Still there was no work left to do, but Sehun certainly wasn’t crying foul. Luhan had emailed him a couple of last minute decisions for the party that needed to be decided, and now he had the time for that.

They’d rented out a small reception hall for the event in Seoul’s most metropolitan area, and had everything from a caterer hired, to a professional decorator.

When Sehun had warned gently, “It’s just a friendly get together,” he’d meant to reassure an almost obsessive Luhan that their friends wouldn’t care where they were meeting, or what the place looked like.

But Luhan had looked back at him in an unflinching way and said, “It took three years to get everyone in one spot right now, and you’re crazy if you think that we’re not all going to continue to drift apart as the years stack up. It might be five more years, or ten, before we manage this again. It should be done right, Sehun. We owe it to the people who helped us through our worst moments, to do it right for them.”

So the whole event had turned into more of a family reunion style feeling, but if it made Luhan happy, Sehun was quick to sign his name to any of the necessary checks.

Luhan rarely asked for much. He was about as easy going as people came. But when he did ask, Sehun was more than inclined to provide.

Sehun was minutes away from calling Luhan to confirm the changes they’d made, when his boss’s secretary poked her head into his office. She looked a little nervous when she told him, “Mister Lee is asking for you. He wants to see you.”

Sehun shot up to his feet. “He wants to see me? In his office?”

She nodded.

Sehun breathed out deeply. “Has Chanyeol been called in too?

The secretary shook her head, not indicating whether that was good or bad. “No, sir. Just you.”

“Okay.” Sehun pressed down some of the winkles in his suit. “Okay. I’m going now.”

He walked swiftly down to his boss’s office, and then knocked sharply on the door before pressing in.

Maybe he’d expected to find carnage in the large office. Or at least some proof of why his superior had locked himself way for the better part of the day in the office. But there was nothing of the sort. There was simply a clean, well-kept office, a large desk at the center of it, and a gray haired man sitting behind said desk.

Sehun gave the man a low, deeply respectful bow, and then asked, “You asked to see me, sir?”

His boss, Lee Kangji gestured for Sehun to take a seat at one of the chairs placed at the desk. Sehun hurried to do so, not wanting to set his boss off for the slightest infraction.

The truth was, Sehun loved working at the company that had dared to take a chance on him right out of college. He got to work on challenging, provoking projects, he made good money, and most of his coworkers were a delight. He liked being able to brag about where he worked, and the things he got to partake in. But his boss was incredibly demanding, woefully short tempered, and often lacked patience.

Sehun was still trying to decide, nearly a decade into his time at the company, if the tradeoff was worth it.

“Oh Sehun,” his boss said, “do you know what I’ve been doing this morning?”

Sehun shook his head. “I wouldn’t presume to guess.”

“I have been,” the old man replied, “fielding calls from our most prestigious client. I passed along your most recent attempt to satisfy him last night, and he’s had ample time to review the material.”

Sehun held his breath.

“Do you know, Oh, how much this deal is worth to our company?”

Sehun shook his head, but that wasn’t exactly truthful. He was certain he could ballpark the worth of the deal, and it was certainly in the millions. It was more than enough to effect the price of their stock, and shape the next six months of the company’s direction. It was big, and bigger than anything they’d handled in years, maybe since Sehun had joined the company.

In the competitive field of advertising, this deal was enough to either set them apart from the pack, or leave them in the dust.

“It’s worth,” his boss breathed out, standing up and leaning over the desk, “ever single bit of that raise and promotion I gave you.” He extended his hand for Sehun to shake with a smile on his face. “Our clients loves what you’ve proposed, Oh. He thinks you’re a miracle worker, and he wants to sign with us immediately.”

Sehun’s knees were practically knocking together as he stood and reached out to shake his boss’s hand. His voice was shaking when he said, “Mister Lee, that’s amazing. I’m so, so thankful.”

The man replied “You scared me there for a second, Oh. I thought you and Park might never get there, but you came through in the end. You came through for this company, and the board is not going to overlook that.”

“I was just doing my job,” Sehun managed. He could have wept with relief, actually. He’d spent so much time, put so much energy and effort into crafting a marketing and development plan that his client would like, that he could scarcely believe what was happening.

“This means big things,” his boss said, sitting down. “This means big changes are coming. Not just for this company, Oh, but for you and Park, too. The two of you have proven your value, and I couldn’t be more happy to have the two of you on board with us.”

Sehun worried morbidly just how much different the conversation would be going if the client had disliked yet another of Sehun’s proposals.

“I hope you’re ready to get to work on this,” Sehun’s boss started, taping a stack of folders on his desk that Sehun could now had their clients name written across. “We’re going to set a standard here for how deals of this caliber should be handled, and others in the industry are going to know your name.”

Flattered as he was, Sehun just wanted a few seconds to breathe.

“The client has big plans for your big plan, Oh, and he wants to get started right away. We’re in premier season to get all of the details squared away, so construction can begin in the spring. You’ll need to carefully coordinate here with our client, Oh, so I need to know that you’re dedicated. Are you dedicated to this? Are you dedicated to finishing a job that will make your career?”

Wasn’t this what he had been working towards for so long? Sehun was certain it was. He just wasn’t certain why his anxiety wasn’t abating. He wasn’t feeling any better, just more pressure, as the seconds passed.

But he could do this. He could do this for his family, and for the legacy he wanted to build.

“I’m committed, sir,” Sehun promised.

“Good.” His boss nodded in an appeased way. “I’ll have my secretary forward your secretary all of the travel information for you, but I suggest you start prepping yourself for this. You’ll be representing this company when you meet with our client. I trust you’ll be on your best behavior the second your feet are off Korean soil.”

Sehun’s mind screeched to a stop. “Wait, what?”

“What are you confused about?”

“Travel?” Sehun said immediately. “What about traveling?”

Now his boss looked impatient, and the man said evenly, “How would you meet with our client otherwise, Oh? He can’t very well leave Hong Kong to come all the way here, to speak with us. He’ll need you on sight, off and on, as a consultant as you begin to put your proposal into effect. You’ll likely have to take Park, if the situation calls for it. But make no mistake, you will be going to the client. And speaking of, the client as so graciously allotted us a travel budget. Apparently, he’s that impressed with your advertising and marketing proposal. So yes, you are expected to travel. He wants you there, explicitly you and no one else, and this deal goes nowhere without you there.”

“I …”

“It’s not even that long,” his boss snapped. “You’ll only have to do this for the next four or five months. There are people who would kill to be in your shoes. Would you rather one of them be?”

Four or five months?

In four or five months, Luhan would be giving birth. Their son would be born. How could Sehun spend the next four or five months, most of which he had planned to take paternity leave through, flying back and forth to China, when Luhan needed him at home? How could he risk being in Hong Kong when his son was being born?  How could he do that to Luhan or their family?

“You leave Friday,” his boss interrupted his thoughts with. “Tell Park you’re taking him with you for the initial meeting.”

“Friday?” Sehun breathed out.

“Congratulations,” his boss said, attention turning away from Sehun.

Friday.

He was supposed to fly out to Hong Kong on Friday?

Sehun felt light headed and the room was wobbling as one thing, and only one thing, settled into the forefront of Sehun’s mind.

He was supposed to fly to Hong Kong on Friday to meet with his client. But the party that had taken three years to come to fruition, and that Luhan had put absolutely his everything into, was on Saturday.

And Sehun was fairly certain he couldn’t be in both places at once.

So he had no idea what to do.

Even a little.


	5. Chapter Five: Luhan

Something was wrong with Sehun. Something was terribly wrong and Luhan was more than a little worried. 

It was all too evident in the way Sehun’s gaze averted, and how he gave Luhan weak grins that never really looked authentic, and how they’d laid in bed the night before and Sehun’s long fingers had splayed out across Luhan’s stomach in a decidedly desperate way.

He could still remember the feeling of Sehun’s fingers exerting pressure on his skin. He could feel the way Sehun had pressed down just slightly whenever the baby moved, and how he’d cupped the swell like he thought it might up and disappear on him.

Luhan had wanted to ask what was wrong. He’d wanted to know why Sehun was shutting him out, and not talking about whatever was weighing heavily on his mind.

But Sehun wasn’t one to be pushed, especially when it came to his feelings. Luhan had learned long ago that Sehun went at his own pace, and it was usually an unsteady one at that. Sehun talked when he was ready, if he was, and certainly not before.

Luhan had said the previous night, when movement rippled through him, “He’s really active tonight. I think he’s getting it in now, before he’s too big to move around too much.”

Sehun had only hummed in a melancholy kind of way, breathing in steadily, but maybe a little too deeply. 

The following morning Sehun had been up and moving long before Luhan had managed to drag himself from bed. In fact Luhan was just getting Youri up and moving, their daughter having taken after Luhan in her lack of willingness to wake up early in the morning, when Sehun was flying out the door with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Wait,” Luhan had called after him, trying not to feel too hurt that Sehun had been willing to just leave without saying anything. “Sehun!”

“I’ve got to get to the office,” Sehun said, shoulders bunched in tightly. “Big project, remember?”

Luhan nodded slowly and agreed, “I remember.”

“Don’t wait up for me tonight,” Sehun called over his shoulder.

The door was swinging shut behind him as Luhan frowned. 

That wasn’t like Sehun at all. Once in a while he’d get up extra early and have to leave before the rest of the family was even ready to get out of bed. And even more rarely Sehun would have a breakfast meeting to attend, or something that took him out of the house before he and Luhan could even share a morning kiss.

But this felt different.

And Luhan didn’t like the unease it put in him.

This felt like more than Sehun just being stressed out over work and having to put in longer than average hours. This felt like more than just Sehun having to prioritize his job for the sake of their family’s future.

This felt much, much worse. 

And now, more than eight hours later, Luhan was still feeling uneasy about the whole situation.

And his nausea wasn’t helping things. 

As he closed his eyes, fighting past the overwhelming urge to bring up bland meal he’d managed for lunch, and the room spun around him, he could hear Youri chatting happily to Ahra as they conducted their weekly tea party.As expected, and in a very typical way, Youri was dominating the conversation with her voracious verbal skills, but Ahra wasn’t exactly one to let herself be pushed into a subservient role. Youri was the clear leader in their partnership, but Ahra was a willing participant. 

A gentle touch came to his shoulder and Luhan blinked his eyes open, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. If he’d had just a few more seconds, he might have fallen asleep. But instead he did his best to perk up and offer Taeyeon a kind smile.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“Don’t be sorry,” she replied immediately. She had a steaming mug of something that smelled wonderful in her hands, and she held it out to him. “Here.”

Luhan accepted gratefully and took a long sniff of the drink. It was most certainly tea, and the tea was soothing to smell. Anything that didn’t make his stomach roll over was fantastic. “What is it?”

Taeyeon swung her purse up over her shoulder and started to edge towards the door. “It’s ginger tea,” she said to him, stopping to slip her feet into her heels. “It was all I could drink when I was pregnant with Ahra. Baekhyun said your morning sickness has been pretty unmanageable.”

Luhan blushed at the reminder, but did admit, “Youri’s pregnancy was nothing like this. Sehun and I have been trying to keep it under wraps, we don’t want to worry anyone, but yes,this time around, I almost always feel nauseous.”

Taeyeon barely bothered to hide a laugh as she said, “Well, you are Baekhyun’s favorite thing to worry over now.”

Luhan remarked, “Wonders never cease, right?”

It wasn’t just Youri and Ahra’s voice Luhan could hear from the bedroom down the hall, either. Baekhyun was in there with them, and the last time Luhan had looked in, Baekhyun had allowed the girls to put a big, pink boa around his neck, and they were chastising him that he needed to sip his tea with his pinky up.

Baekhyun was a terribly good father. To Luhan, there was no substitute to Sehun, but bringing up the rear in a close second was Baekhyun.

For all of Baekhyun’s fears that he’d end up being like his own father, Baekhyun had shown none of those tendencies. He was exceedingly loving with Ahra, and patient with her. He spent time with her, and did all the things that he probably didn’t want to. The evidence right now was the tea party currently happening. Youri and Ahra had a tea party nearly every week, complete with juice in small tea cups that they used as props. And Baekhyun was in there now with them, drinking apple juice, hunched over a tiny chair, talking to stuffed animals. 

“Oh, stop it,” Taeyeon said, a smile on her face. “You and Baekhyun are great friends now, no matter how few people saw it coming. Baekhyun’s pretty much the definition of an egg. He’s all shell on the outside, but liquid gooeyness on the inside. And when his friends aren’t feeling well, like you aren’t right now, he’s got a great capacity for the ability to empathize.”

“I’m not saying he’s not a great friend,” Luhan said with his own grin. He wrapped his fingers around the cup and soaked in the warmth. It was by no means cold in the house, but Luhan could never seem to get warm anymore, and so that was another reason to be grateful for the tea.

“Drink it,” Taeyeon ordered, seeing his focus on the tea. “I’m not advocating it’s a miracle in a cup, but that tea right there helped me get down two full meals a day with Ahra, and I think it’ll help you, too.”

Once more, Luhan repeated his appreciation, and took a drink to prove his point. There was a touch of lemon with the ginger taste, and it was wonderful. 

“I’ve got to run down to work,” Taeyeon said, keys in hand. “But if you need anything, Baekhyun is just down the hall.”

“Sorry about just commandeering your sofa like this,” Luhan said, taking another drink of the tea. He’d meant to just drop Youri off for her playdate with Ahra, but then his feet had felt like they were encased in cement, and once he’d sat down, he’d found it hard to get back up.

Baekhyun had been happy enough to distract the girls from noticing, but Luhan thought it was all a little ridiculous. He was at the end of his second trimester. He was supposed to be getting a burst of energy—a second wind. Instead he was taking more naps in a day than Youri.

“Our sofa is your sofa,” Taeyeon said without preamble. “And if you’re still not feeling well in a couple of hours, we’ll get Baekhyun to drive you and Youri home. Sehun can bring him back later.”

Luhan laughed, “I’m sure Baekhyun will love you volunteering him for that.”

Taeyeon pulled the front door open and said gently, “Sometimes I think you underestimate how important your friendship is to Baekhyun.”

That gave Luhan pause. 

And he was quiet long enough that Taeyon added in just as soft a voice, probably so they wouldn’t be overheard, “Baekhyun long ago stopped looking at you and Sehun and thinking of Jaehyuk. Now he just sees one of his best friends, who’s there for him no matter what, who is steady and dependable, and who makes him feel like a better person. I hope you understand that.”

With one appreciative nod, Luhan focused back on his tea and Taeyeon left. 

Luhan hoped that Baekhyun knew how much Luhan depended on him, too. They weren’t just convenient friends because of Sehun, or Youri and Ahra. If he didn’t, Luhan was resolved to make sure he did.

The tea, like Taeyeon said, certainly wasn’t working any miracles, but it did settle his stomach in a wonderful way. He was able to finish his cup within a couple of minutes, and then he was being lulled towards sleep far, far too easily. 

“What a slacker.”

Luhan certainly wasn’t a deep sleeper. He had been at one point in his life, but having a baby had really stolen that ability from him, and his pregnancy made him constantly uncomfortable, so he rarely hit a state of deep sleep.

He certainly was napping lightly enough to hear Baekhyun’s words.

Blinking sluggishly at Baekhyun, Luhan asked, “Did you have fun playing pretty princess?” Luhan gestured to Baekhyun’s bangs. “You’ve got a little glitter there. About a pound.”

Baekhyun snorted and threw himself down on the sofa next to Luhan. “Unlike some other slackers I know, I’m trying to properly engage with my daughter and her best friend. If you weren’t a said slacker, you’d know that.”

“Guilty as charged,” Luhan said pleasantly, and with a shrug.

Baekhyun gave him a long look. “Did you have a good nap?” There was a touch of concern hidden in his words, and as Luhan spoke Baekhyun fluently, he knew that meant Baekhyun was practically clawing at him to know.

“Taeyeon gave me tea and it worked wonders,” Luhan said, and he was shocked when he spotted the time across the living room. “I didn’t realize it was so late. Where’s Youri?” They’d come over to Baekhyun’s when Youri’s lessons were over for the day, but it was practically time to go home and start dinner. 

Baekhyun nodded down the hallway. “Youri led a riot at some point during the tea party, or maybe it was a rebellion against the teddy bears, but the two of them pretty much tore her room apart. They’re cleaning it now.”

“A riot?”

“There was spilled juice.”

Luhan regretted missing that. “I hope you’re making Youri scrub it out of the carpet.”

Baekhyon insisted, “I’m all about that free child labor.”

This, this was what Luhan liked best about is relationship with Baekhyun now. Their banter came so easily, and so naturally, and felt so good. 

“Youri is a pro,” Luhan assured “She dropped a cupcake on the carpet in Sehun’s study about six weeks ago, and we managed to get it out before his blood pressure hit critical levels.”

“Admirable.” 

It didn’t take long for Luhan’s mind to wander right back to Sehun. He had no plans to be home for dinner that evening, and when Luhan checked his phone, he saw that there were no missed calls from him, or text messages, or emails. It was as if Sehun had effectively cut him out completely, and that scared Luhan.

Sehun was too good at doing things like that. And though it hadn’t happened in a long time, Luhan didn’t think he could weather that storm at the minute. There was too much going on in their lives currently. He needed Sehun with him, whole, and okay.

“You look upset.”

At Baekhyun’s words, Luhan confessed, “I think there’s something going on with Sehun, I just don’t know what it is.”

Baekhyun seemed to focus immediately. “What kind of things? I though you guys were good. You always seem good.”

“We’re good at seeming like we’re good,” Luhan amended. “We have just as many problems as you and Taeyeon, and everyone else in this world.”

Ignoring that, Baekhyun prompted, “What kinds of things?”

It felt in a way like an intrusion to spread their business to Baekhyun. Even if Baekhyun was a longtime friend of Sehun’s, and invauble of one to Luhan, it still felt wrong. But Luhan was also desperate, and he knew what it was like to go down a road where Sehun stopped communicating. 

“It’s his work triggering all this,” Luhan finally confessed. If he listened hard enough he could hear Youri and Ahra talking to each other as they cleaned. Luhan was thankful, because the last thing he wanted was for either of them to overhear. 

“His work?”

Luhan nodded. It took some time to explain it all, to lay out how long Sehun had been under severe pressure at work, and how long he’d been pulling twelve hours shifts, and sacrificing his days off. 

Luhan guiltily said, “His relationships are suffering. He has to make time to give Youri a bath, or to spend the evening with me.And when he does, half the time I can see it on his face that all he’s thinking about is work.”

“Sehun has always been focused,” Baekyhun said. It certainly didn’t sound like he was defending Sehun, but merely offering an opinion. “Maybe even scarily so? Sehun is the kind of guy who thinks he proves his worth by the position he has at work, and the salary he brings in. For him, the definition of being a man is providing for his family.”

Luhan grossed, “I’m not trying to take away from that in the slightest. I’m proud of him in every way. But our family isn’t going to fall to destitute if he doesn’t get his next big promotion. And this case he’s working on right now …it’s sucking his soul out, Baekhyun.He’s more than just stressed.”

“And I bet,” Baekhyun said confidently, “he’s chosen to keep as much of this from you as possible.”

Luhan gave him a knowing look. “Sehun …”

“Exactly,” Baekhyun said.

Luhan palmed his hands on his knees and took as deep of a breath as the baby would allow—it was practically sitting on his diaphragm now. “This morning it was worse. It was worse than it’s ever been.”

Baekhyun asked seriously, “What happened this morning?”

Luhan felt helpless as he shrugged. “That’s the thing, I don’t know. Sehun is barely talking to me. Whatever he’s keeping cooped up inside, it’s eating away at him.He charged out of the house so suddenly this morning I think he meant to leave before I even got up. He didn’t say it, but that’s the impression I got. He didn’t want to see me this morning, and I don’t know why.”

“Luhan,” Baekhyun tried.

“I don’t know what’s happening.”

And suddenly, without warning and certainly in an unwanted way, Luhan felt the first sign of teas. There was burning in his eyes, and he was already hormonal enough as it was that it came all too easily.

Unable to help himself, Luhan said, “Sehun just doesn’t talk to me anymore, not like we used to, not since he took that promotion at work and started working longer hours. He leaves early in the morning, he comes back late at night, and he doesn’t have time for anything. He hasn’t even called me today. Not once. And most of the time when I call him, his secretary fields the call and sends me straight to his voice mail. He doesn’t answer his personal phone when he’s at work.”

A horrified look crossed Baekhun’s face. “You don’t think … Luhan, he loves you …”

It was almost hilariously funny when Luhan realized what Baekhyun was alluding to, and it felt good to laugh. It felt great. 

“This is not funny,” Baekhyun said, arms crossed over his chest.

“Do I think Sehun is cheating on me?” Luhan asked, all giggled.

No. Of course not. That wasn’t a thought that had crossed Luhan’s mind even once. He was confused as to what was going on, but he was certain that Sehun wasn’t being unfaithful. Sehun certainly wasn’t that kind of man, and no matter how distant Sehun was at the moment, Luhan could feel how much he was loved when Sehun touched him. 

Love was most certainly not the problem.

Not to mention Luhan would have bet his life on Sehun never committing that kind of betrayal. Sehun had nearly lost it all. He’d practically lost everything, at one point in his life. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, more important to Sehun than the family he had. So at least in that department, Luhan felt like he had nothing to worry about.

So he told Baekhyun, “I know this isn’t Sehun cheating. Maybe someone else has to worry about that with their husband or wife, but not me.”

“Then?”

From down the hall, Youri shrieked with laughter. 

“Luhan?”

Luhan asked Baekhyun, “Is this what success is? Is this the definition of success? A man who has to work from sun up to sun down, in order to have that corner office?”

Baekhyun shook his head a little numbly. 

“I hate this,” Luhan declared. “I hate that I see Sehun so little, and that Youri barely asks anymore when he’s coming home, or when he’ll be there to tuck her in. I think she’s tired of being disappointed, and so am I.”

Curiously, Baekhyun wondered, “Have you talked to Chanyeol about this? I mean, I know you’re Sehun’s husband and all, but Chanyeol probably spends just as much time with him in a week now as you do. Maybe Chanyeol can give you some kind of insight.”

Luhan felt pensive. “I didn’t think of Chanyeol.” He shrugged a little. “I don’t really see Chanyeol as often as you do.”

Eyes narrowing, Baekhyun asked, “Is this your way of asking me to do your dirty work?”

With some effort, Luhan heaved himself up and off the sofa. He made at least something of an effort to hide the roll of his eyes when Baekhyun sprung up with him, seemingly ready to catch him if he took a nosedive. He wondered lowly, “How does Taeyeon even put up with you?”

If Baekhyun heard him clearly enough to respond, he was obviously choosing not to. And instead, Baekhyun volunteered, “But I could, you know. I could take Chanyeol out to a late lunch or early dinner tomorrow and ask him about Sehun. I could try and fish something out of him, if you want.”

Now it was Luhan’s turn to mock glare, and he wondered, “I feel like you’re negotiating for something in return. You’re hardly ever this nice and considerate, even to people you like.”

Baekhyun scoffed. “That is a dirty, dirty thing to say, Luhan.”

Before the conversation could progress any further, both Youri and Ahra came tearing into the room. 

“Baba!” Youri flung herself at Luhan’s legs, squeezing her arms around them, looking up at him with a grin full of babyteeth. 

“Did you have a good time playing?” Luhan asked, kissing the top of her head. 

Youri bounced on her feet as she nodded vigorously. “Can I come back tomorrow? Baba, can I play more tomorrow?”

“God help us all,” Baekhyun said, scooping Ahra up in his arms, “when she’s old enough to drive and she can just go wherever she wants. I’ll set a permenant spot for her at the dinner table when that happens.”

“Drive,” Luhan balked. “I’m scared for when she’s old enough to cross the street by herself.”

Short tempered when it came to not being paid attention to, Youri tapped Luhan’s stomach and stated, “Baba, the baby and I want to go. We need to go now.”

Luhan gave her a sharp look. “Are you hungry, is that why you want to go?”

Again, Youri smiled wide.

“I thought so,” Luhan chuckled. “Don’t worry, Youri, oppa said he’ll set you a place at his dinner table from now on.”

Youri’s head snapped back to Baekhyun like she didn’t quiet believe the words, and Baekhyun looked anything but pleased. 

“Okay, okay,” Luhan said, giving her a reprieve. “You’re right to be hungry, it’s almost dinner time. Let’s go pester your Uncle Wei to make us something good to eat.”

“Yay!” Youri cheered, letting go of Luhan and dancing around a bit.

“Luhan,” Baekhyun said, catching him before he could get out the front door. “I’m serious.”

Luhan pointed out, “You almost always are.”

Luhan did up the buttons on his jacket, despite the seasonably warm weather outside, and Youri was loudly proclaiming all the things she wanted for dinner.

“I’m serious,” Baekhyun said again, leaning a little on the door. “I’ll talk to Chanyeol tomorrow, and see if I can get some kind of insight here for you.”

There was a gentler tone now to his words, and Luhan appreciated it. Baekhyun was always just a little too sharp, even when he didn’t want to be. So anything less than that was something significant.

“I appreciate it,” Luhan told him. “This can’t go on. And if Sehun won’t talk to me about this, I’ll go around him.”

Youri went still at that, and Luhan was suddenly reminded that his daughter’s ears were keen and always listening. She asked, “Daddy?”

“You’ll see him tonight,” Luhan said, but of that, he wasn’t sure. Sehun hadn’t said anything about being home in time for Youri’s bedtime. 

“I’ll get it out of Chanyeol,” Baekhyun promised confidently. “Just give me a day. I’ve got this.”

Despite the way that Youri was now pushing impatiently at his legs, Luhan reached out to tug Baekhyun into a sharp hug.

“Luhan,” Baekhyun grunted out, but he didn’t push him away, and there was even the barest hint that Baekhyun was hugging back. “Seriously. Stop.”

“Come on,” Luhan teased. “Fess up. You secretly like it when I hug you.”

Youri declared loudly, “I like hugs!”

“Go home,” Baekhyun ordered, “before I shut the door in your face.”

Luhan took Youri’s hand in his own and gave a final chuckle before heading off to the car parked on the street. 

He was halfway home, fondly listening to Youri sing along to the song on the radio, when anger welled up in Luhan. Sehun had always hard headed. He’d always been stubborn to a fault, too. If he had a biggest character flaw, it was his inability to realize when he needed help, and get it all on his own. And that was fine for Luhan. That was something Luhan could deal with all on his own. He’d been doing it for years.

But not Youri.

None of this was fair to Youri or the new baby. 

Luhan could handle eating dinner by himself at night, and sneaking in kisses and words of affection between long work shifts and the chaotic speed of life. But children were less capable of understanding such things. 

For now, Youri took Sehun’s absence in stride. For now, she forgave easily, and forgot even faster. 

But what about in a year?

What about when she had her first day of real school?

What about the first time Sehun missed a school function, or a dance recital, or a family vacation?

There were a lot of things Luhan could stand for, and many he could weather.

Sehun destroying their family from the inside out, for whatever reason, and harming their children, was no one of them.

“Baba?” Youri asked, feet kicking out from her booster seat as she stared at him in confusion. “Are you mad, baba?”

“No, Youri.” Of course he was. He was positively fuming. 

“You look mad, baba,” she said perceptively. 

Luhan breathed out deeply. “I’m not mad, Youri.”

More than not allowing Sehun to implode their family, Luhan also wouldn’t let Youri know just yet that her parents could fight like the best of them. There would come a day, of course, where Youri would hear them fighting for the first time, or hear one of them say something awful about the other. But Youri was three, and that day wasn’t today. 

She accepted his words easily enough, and then she was back to singing in a second. 

Luhan gripped the steering wheel tightly. A fight was definitely coming, Luhan just wasn’t sure what kind.

Surprisingly, the lights were on in the house when Luhan and Youri made their way in. Wei had gone out early that morning, like he said he would be for the coming weeks, and Luhan hadn’t expected him back until a bit later. Wei had made mention of being home for dinner, but there was still time before the meal.

However, the lights on the first level were on, and that was all Youri needed to go tearing through the house, shouting for Wei and what she wanted for dinner. Luhan followed at a much slower pace, setting his keys in the bowl next to the front door, his feet and ankles already aching.

“Luhan?”

An unexpected voice called his name, and as Luhan trekked into the living room, his eyebrows going high on his forehead as he spotted Xiumin stretched out on the sofa, placed conspicuously close to Wei who was sitting ramrod straight.

It almost looked like … it almost looked like Luhan and Youri had interrupted something. 

“Xiumin,” Luhan said. 

“Oppa!”

Youri launched herself up on Xiumin, hugging him tightly, chattering as she always did, about how he was her favorite, and when she could go over and play with his dog.

“See,” Luhan told Xiumin, feeling a burst of energy. “It’s the dog. It’s always the dog.”

Xiumin hugged Youri back in a possessive way and said, “That is not the only reason I’m her favorite uncle. You’d better watch yourself with that, Luhan.” A moment later and Xiumin was laughing, stating, “I’m just getting her warmed up for when you and Sehun finally let her get a puppy. You’ll thank me for this later.”

At Sehun’s mention, Luhan’s spirits fell again. And Luhan had known Xiumin far long enough to know that his best friend had caught a flicker of something on his face.

And when Xiumin saw something, he rarely let it go.

Luhan was bracing for that when Wei cut in, “You’ll never believe how we ran into each other today. It’s crazy.”

Luhan took the chance to ease himself down on the sofa next to Wei and ask, “So you two ran into each other?”

Xiumin let Youri settle onto his lap and said, “We did, actually. I was taking my lunch break today, and I needed to run to the grocery store. That’s where Wei was, helping this little old lady out to her car, carrying about six of her bags all at once. It was honestly pretty impressive.”

“I work out,” Wei said to Xiumin, certainly in a teasing way. “I try to let it show, every once in a while.”

Yes, that definitely was a red tint to Xiumin’s face.

In a lot of ways, Luhan felt flabbergasted at what he’d experienced twice before now. He was most certainly seeing his oldest friend flirt with his best friend. And there was something weird about it, if only because of how out of place it seemed at first, but the more Luhan did see, the more he liked. 

Wei liked to shut himself up in his work and his home, and for as much as he moved around, he wasn’t a risk taker. In comparison, Xiumin was just too afraid to give himself another shot at being happy. He’d put his heart out there once, and the damage had been profound. 

The two of them flirting with each other, spending time together, and possible enjoying each other’s company in a less than platonic was, was a refreshing idea. 

The way Xiumin blushed around Wei was all kinds of adorable. And Wei grinned at Xiumin like Luhan hadn’t seen him do in a long, long time. Like there was something worth sticking around for. Something worth investing in.

“But wait,” Luhan said, suddenly interrupted from his train of thought. “Xiumin, Wei, why would you both be shopping at the same grocery store? Xiumin, you don’t live or work anywhere near the closest grocery store to this house.”

“I was doing research,” Wei said. “For my editorial. I ended up pretty far out.”

“You were doing research at a grocery store?”

Wei said flippantly, “In between carrying groceries for the elderly.”

Luhan was going to get it out of Wei sooner, rather than later, he decided. He wanted to know what Wei’s big editorial piece as, and why he was being so closed off about it. Wei was always pretty hush-hush when he was working on something, but he was being downright secretive now. 

“Anyway,” Xiumin picked up the story, “I saw him there, and we just got to talking—mostly about food. I guess Wei likes to cook and is good at it. I burn ramen.”

“I can attest to that,” Luhan agreed humorously. 

Xiumin gave Youri a bounce on his knee, and just for one, incredibly brief second, Luhan saw a good father in him. He saw that Xiumin could have been a good father to Youri. If things had never worked out with Sehun, if Luhan had been able to give Xiumin the kind of love in return that he desired, Youri could have been Xiumin’s little girl. And he would have been fantastic at taking care of her, because he was already a great uncle. 

But that scenario existed in an alternate universe, one that had never come to fruition. 

Still, Luhan could see it.

“One thing led to another,” Wei told Luhan, “and I offered Xiumin to come eat dinner with us. I said he should come and help me cook, and pick up a couple of tips, and maybe even participate, if he’s feeling bold enough.” Wei risked an almost bashful look to Luhan. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” Luhan told him right away. “Xiumin’s always welcome here, no questions asked.”

“We’ve just been talking since then,” Xiumin finished, but they had a couple bottles of beers on the table that were more than empty, and there was a sense of comfortableness between them that wasn’t manufactured. They’d probably been sitting together, drinking and talking, for some time, and with whatever was happening between them, that wasn’t a bad thing.

“I’ll start dinner soon,” Wei said, groaning as he got up to his feet. He gave a long stretch, one that Xiumin was most certainly watching, and then held a hand out to Youri and asked, “Would my favorite princess like to come help me start prepping for dinner?”

Xiumin was abandoned quickly enough at the offer, and Wei lifted her up onto his shoulders with a show of strength. Youri squealed in joy.

Luhan felt a stab of fear and called after them, “Watch her head, Wei. The low ceiling!”

The baby gave a thunderous kick, like he too was concerned. But then Wei and Youri made it safely into the kitchen, and the danger seemed to have passed. Mmultiple times Luhan had seen Wei tossing Youri up in the air to an excessive height. Luhan was thinking about banning Wei from touching Youri completely. 

Quietly, Xiumin remarked, “He’s so good with her.”

Luhan himself even had to nod. “He’s pretty natural with kids, which is kind of a shocker, I know, because he’s spent very little time around them. But to some people, it comes natural.”

Xiumin made a sound of agreement.

Luhan’s gaze slid from the kitchen to Xiumin, and remarked in a coquettish way, “He’s also devilishly good looking, isn’t he? And charming. Intelligent. Funny.”

In a distracted way, Xiumin hummed again.

“You’re so cute it’s practically ridiculous,” Luhan said.

“Wait, what?” Xiumin jerked back towards Luhan. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Luhan shook his head slowly. “Nothing.”

For a second, Luhan thought he was in the clear. For one, brief second, he thought that Xiumin had forgotten whatever he might have seen. 

Then Xiumin gave him a long look and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?”

Firmly, Xiumin observed, “You look sad. And no, don’t bother telling me that there’s nothing wrong, or that you’re perfectly fine. How long have we known each other? I know when something’s wrong. I can see it on your face a mile away. So this is me, telling you I know something is wrong, and I bet it involves that husband of yours.”

“You,” Luhan said with a sigh, “have always been too pereptive.”

Xiumin wasted no time asking, “What’s he gone and done now?”

“Don’t,” Luhan warned.

For the most part, Xiumin and Sehun had a great relationship. They had a great friendship. Though it had certainly started out rocky, and still had points of contention, they were in a far better place than Luhan had ever thought they could be. Time had dulled the friction between them, and the two men had seemingly bonded over their love for Youri. They were even known to do things together, without Luhan present. They both enjoyed baseball games, and went frequently. 

But no matter what, Luhan knew he had Xiumin’s loyalty, and the past was never fully forgotten. Xiumin could get defensive in a moment’s notice, and it was all too clear how willing he was to turn on Sehun if it came down to a choice between the two of them. 

“He did something, obviously,” Xiumin said tiredly. “You wouldn’t have that look on you face if he hadn’t.”

“He didn’t do anything,” Luhan denied in a vehement way. “We just …”

Xiumin waited patiently.

Luhan settled on saying, “Something is wrong. I know Sehun. I know what he’s like when he’s overworked, and this is something more than that. Something is wrong and that’s the only way I know how to say it. He just shut down, especially today. He’s not communicating with me, he’s holding something big back, and I’m …”

He was tired. And frustrated. And angry. Still angry.

“So,” Xiumin drawled out, “something is bothering Sehun, he’s slipping back into his old habits of not talking when he needs to, and I’ll just take a stab in the dark and say that because he’s not home now with his family, he’s probably hiding out in his office.”

Luhan didn’t have a reply for him, mostly because he suspected the same, too.

Xiumin sighed out, “What a dick.”

“Please don’t,” Luhan tried again.

Xiumin ran his fingers through his hair and was seemingly collecting his thoughts. Luhan hoped he was choosing the least critical and colorful language he had in him. 

“Sehun is being Sehun,” Xiumin said, pursing his lips. “That’s not entirely unexpected and you know it. I guess what matters next is if you’re going to be you.”

Luhan gave him a confused look.

“You’re you,” Xiumin clarified. “You’re a good person, better than most, and you do good things. You care about people, you take care of them, and when there’s a problem, you fix it. You don’t sit back, you don’t hope things work out, you take charge, and that’s what I'm wondering right now. Are you going to go in that kitchen and eat dinner with everyone but your husband, or are you going to get in your car, drive down to your husband’s office, and make him talk to you?”

Luhan stared at him.

“Well?”

Luhan said, without a shadow of a doubt, “This is why you’re my best friend.”

Xiumin pointed at the front door. “Go. Wei and I will make dinner for Youri. You go get that stubborn, stupid husband of yours back on a leash.”

Xiumin was most certainly his best friend for a reason. Because Xiumin had said so much, and spoken so much truth, by saying so little.   
  
No good was going to come from Luhan stewing on his feelings, waiting for Sehun to come to him, and that wasn’t like Luhan to begin with. He needed to take control of the situation, he needed to get it resolved quickly, and he was done letting Sehun slink away and avoid him. 

“Will you tell Youri—”

“Yes, yes.” Xiumin waved a hand at him. “Go. Youri will be fine. You go worry about Sehun.”

Luhan gave him a thankful grin. “I’ll be back later.” 

When he got back in the car this time, he felt lighter than before.

Whatever was happening with Sehun, it wasn’t anything they couldn’t get past. Sehun was terribly stubborn in his sensibilities, but he wasn’t impossible to get through to. And underneath it all, Luhan held to the faith that there was nothing more important to Sehun that his family. 

Sehun’s first instinct was always to run, but Luhan was always going to chase after him. Luhan loved him too much, and loved their family too much, to do any less. 

“You can do this,” he breathed out to himself when he pulled to a stop at the last light before the block Sehun’s office was located at. The red of the light gleamed down on his car as the sun faded away on the horizon. From Luhan’s position, he could see the lights of Sehun’s building, and it was certainly more imposing looking than it had ever been before. Ever.

“No, really,” he promised himself. “You can do this. Just go in there. Just walk in there like you own the place, go find your husband, and make him talk to you. Easy. Totally easy.”

The light switched to green and he eased off the brake.

It was a great irony. It was perhaps the greatest irony ever, but in that moment, in a split second, the light was blinding. The sun wasn’t fully down, and it was glaringly angry in its wane. Luhan brought his hand up to shield his gaze, and in his blindness, he never saw the car that cut into the intersection from the opposite direction.

There was only the smash of glass, the hard—too hard impact of one car against another, and then nothing more. Only blackness.


	6. Chapter Six: Sehun

Sehun felt like a coward. It was a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he absolutely hated it. He thought he was done with being a coward. He thought he’d worked past the self-deprecation long ago.

But here he was, keeping secrets rather than talking about them, worrying, and shutting Luhan out.

He knew he was shutting Luhan out, and that was beyond unacceptable. But he just couldn’t bring himself to explore the alternative.He couldn’t tell Luhan the kinds of demands his job was suddenly making on him. He couldn’t admit that he was going to miss so much of Luhan’s pregnancy, and potentially the birth of their son. 

And he was. He absolutely was. Because the alternative was losing his job, and then where would his family be?

It was an absolutely terrible situation he’d gotten himself into. He’d been so obsessed with locking in the contract deal for his marketing firm, and producing a plan that the client liked, that he’d hardly stopped to think about what getting what he wanted would entail. He’d been living in a fantasy world, for the most part, and had spent months being short sighted.

It was all coming down on him now. 

So here he was, being a coward, avoiding Luhan, punishing him for something that wasn’t his fault, and doing it all because Sehun was a big coward.

His cowardice wasn’t something he could maintain for very long, either. He was going to have to say something before the weekend when the party was scheduled to take place. Because when it was happening, an event that Luhan had planned for, for well over a year, and practically leapt through hoops to get everyone to attend, Sehun was going to be on an airplane, flying to Hong Kong for a business meeting.

How Luhan was going to react to all of it didn’t really matter in the end. Because regardless of what that reaction was, Sehun would be skipping out on him, and that was something he’d vowed never to do. Not again. Not after getting himself together for the sake of Youri.

And he’d seen it that morning, when he’d tried to get out the door before Luhan got downstairs. He’d seen it on Luhan’s face when Sehun had told him not to wait up, and that he wouldn’t be home for dinner. Sehun had seen the concern, the worry, and then the hurt.

Sehun felt like scum for that, and it was worse than the cowardice. 

The truth of it was, too, that he hadn’t even gone to work. He’d never even made it to the office. Instead he’d gotten in his car, driven halfway across Seoul, and parked. He was still sitting where he’d parked hours ago, desperately trying to brainstorm a way out of the mess, hoping again hope that there was an answer somewhere. 

Maybe Chanyeol could do some of the overseas visits in lieu of Sehun. Maybe the whole project could just be passed to a different design team and Sehun would just take a demotion. Maybe Luhan and Youri could come with Sehun on some of the trips, and make it a family thing.

Maybe. 

Maybe.

There had to be a valid maybe out there. There had to be something. 

Once more Sehun’s phone buzzed. After the third call from Chanyeol, and one from the office, Sehun had set his phone to vibrate and tossed it down on the seat next to him. The time was nearing lunch now and Chanyeol hadn’t tried to pester him for some time. 

Sehun let the call go to voicemail.

But then the phone buzzed again, and now Sehun reached for it, not sure at all that it was Chanyeol. Chanyeol, for as dense as he could be at times, was pretty good at picking up on when Sehun wanted to be left alone. Yet here was the phone ringing again, so either there was an emergency at work, or it wasn’t Chanyeol calling. 

It was the second of the two options, and Sehun answered the call right away, on instinct alone, when he saw Suho’s name flashing.

“Hi,” Sehun breathed out, trying to sound as normal as possible. Suho had a nose like a greyhound or picking up when Sehun was in distress of any kind. “How are you?”

There was all kinds of background noise on Suho’s end of the line, but eventually his former brother-in-law answered back, “Hey, Sehun. I’m fine. How are you?”

It took a moment for Sehun to realize that in the brief time that he’d had Suho on the phone, his whole demeaner had changed. He was slunk lower in his seat now, more relaxed than before, and there was less tension in his body. Suho had done that.

Suho always did that. Suho was a natural calming force. That didn’t mean that Suho couldn’t be a hurricane if need be, but for the most part, Suho was more like a white noise machine. Suho moved with fluidity, and spoke in an even tone that was perpetually calm. Suho was sturdy and empathetic, and just had a restful disposition. Suho was the kind of rock that Sehun had needed to lean on more than once in his life, and he was reacting subconsciously to that even now. 

“I’m fine,” Sehun forced himself to say in his own steady way. “Just … you know, getting some work done.”

“Not working too hard, I hope,” Suho laughed out. “But I trust Luhan to grab you by the ear and reign you in if need be.”

Oh, Sehun was just feeling the extra guilt pile up.

“Where are you?” Sehun asked, making out the sound of a PA system saying something in English. 

“Really,” Suho asked with a gentle snort. “You’re asking where I am? You know today is Tuesday, right?”

That was a somber reminder to Sehun of their distance, and he said, “It’s Wednesday here in Seoul.”

For three years now, three long years, Suho had worked and lived in America. And though Suho had some minor gripes about America, mostly the driving and the food, he was flourishing. Sehun tried his absolute best not to be petty or jealous, and wish only the best in Suho. The man was climbing up the corporate ladder at an amazing rate, was nearly fluent in English now, and had himself put together in a way that Sehun could only hope to come close to one day. Suho had new, American friends, and wrote emails about going to the theater, and how he was starting a vintage wine collection. Suho had a brand new, completely separate life in New York, and most of all, he was happy.

Sehun, truthfully, was still not over losing Suho to America.Most days Sehun was able to block it out, or make himself forget. But on others, all he could think about was how Suho had done so much for him, and cultivated such a lasting relationship.Before Luhan, there had only been Suho who Sehun was willing to let in, and in many, many ways, Suho had saved Sehun from ending it all. 

Suho had a natural way of simply understanding Sehun. Suho knew Sehun’s soul, and he was the kind of person that Sehun could sit in silence with for hours at a time, and not feel an ounce of uncomfortableness. 

Suho gave the best kind of advice, and pushed Sehun towards endurance and perserverence, and greatness. 

Luhan was most certainly the love of his life, and Chen was Sehun’s best friend. But Suho was in a league all his own. 

And Suho had been a missing spot in Sehn’s life for so long it was still like an open wound.More than once Sehun had needed him for something important. But it wasn’t fair to pull Suho away from living his own life in America. It wasn’t fair to be selfish like that.

Plus, it was true that Suho visited as frequently as possible. He always came around for the holidays and spoiled Youri absolutely rotten. He always defended it as her birthday practically being on Christmas, but secretly Sehun knew he just liked vying for the spot of being Youri’s favorite uncle.

Not to mention, Luhan and Sehun had taken Youri, just after her second birthday, to go visit Suho in New York. For almost three weeks, an absurd amount of time, really, Suho had shown them around every touristy area know to New York, New York. They’d had their meals together in fancy resutrants, and Suho had taken them to the Statue of Liberty, and they’d ridden around in a big, doubt decker buss for almost an entire day to see some of the sights.

It was just enough to keep Sehun sane. But it wasn’t lost on him how much he needed those moments to feel that way. Luhan was every bit the future, and it was a future that Sehun desperately wanted and cling to. But Suho was the past, and Sehun was nothing without his past.

Sehun really hoped that Suho never really figured out how desperately clingy Suho was. He’d never live it down. 

“You’re at the airport,” Sehun breathed out. He’d forgotten. Of course he’d forgotten. Tuesday for Suho, and Wednesday for Sehun, Suho was set to fly out to come to Seoul for the gathering.The tickets had been purchased months ago and everyone had been talking about it nonstop for some time.

The date was written on the calendar in the kitchen at home, in red and circled. 

How Sehun could have forgotten was unforgivable. 

“You forgot,” Suho said in a humorous way. “Now I know you really are working too hard.”

Sehun let himself lean forward and he thumped his head on the steering wheel. 

He had forgotten that Sehun was coming so quickly. By the following morning, after Suho’s layover, his plane would be getting into Seoul. And while Sehun knew that Suho had plans to go visit his parents, and see Jae’s grave, right after that, Suho would be coming to visit with Luhan and Sehun.

He wasn’t planning on staying with them, as the house he owned in Seoul was sitting vacant and would do in a pinch, but he’d be spending an enormous amount of time with them. 

Suho’s nose would sniff the problem out in a second. 

And god help Sehun when that happened, because Suho was exceptionally good at getting down to the root of a problem. And Suho was absoluterly going to take Luhan’s side and be offended for him if necessary. Once and only once Suho had made the wrong call with Luhan, and it had haunted him ever since.

Sehun had heard a private conversation between Luhan and Suho once. Sehun had been up in the nursery with a fussy Youri who was teething and running a low-grade fever from it. The baby monitor had been open both ways, and Sehun had been able to hear it all.

Suho had said, “What I did to you, Luhan, it still makes my skin crawl. I was prematurely judgmental, and I hurt you for it. I disregarded everything I knew about you, to think you were the villain, and I’m more than just disappointed with myself. I’m sickened.”

“I’ve forgiven you,” Luhan had replied. “But you’re like Sehun. You can’t forgive yourself.”

“Sometimes you forgive too easily.”

That was Luhan in a nutshell.

And Luhan had surprised Sehun then, with Youri drooling into his shoulder, her tiny hand clutching at his shirt, when he said, “I think there’s certainly a difference between forgetting and forgiving. I forgive you because we’re family, Suho. For as dysfunctional as we all are, and the mistakes we make, we’re all just family, and family forgives.”

Suho had laughed then, in a lighter way, and said, “But you won’t forget.”

“Someday,” Luhan had decided. “Years from now, when I trust that you won’t ever think that I am deliberately going to hurt Sehun. But you’re right. For now, I remember.”

If Luhan and Suho ever had another conversation on the matter, Sehun hadn’t been privy to it.

“Listen,” Suho said now, the PA system in the background going off again. “My plane is delayed a couple hours, but I’ll still make my connection and lay over. Don’t come get me in the morning, okay? I already talked to my parents and they want to be the ones to pick me up from the airport.”

“Got it.”

Suho continued, “I promised to have breakfast with them like a good, dutiful son, but afterwards I thought I’d come up and see you guys. I know Luhan and Youri will be at home in the afternoon, but how about you? Can you sneak away from work for a couple of hours? Or leave a little early? I know you’re working on that big case of yours, and I love my parents, but you and Luhan and Youri are the ones that mean the most to me.”

Sehun’s heart nearly beat right out of his chest. 

“This,” Sehun breathed out, “this means a lot to us, that you’re coming out here just for a get together. We know you’re busy.”

Suho assured right away, “I’m excited to see everyone one again. People drift naturally. It’s nice to let a force like Luhan pull us all back together.”

Sehun hummed his agreement.

A half second later Suho pressed, “So can you do it? Can you be there in the afternoon when I swing by your place?”

Sehun wanted to throw his phone into the Han river. Not going into work today had been an option. But he had to be there tomorrow. He and Chanyeol had to work out their travel schedule, and get their things put together for the presentation they were expected to give to their client on Saturday. They’d need at least a couple days to do it, and Sehun thought even that would be cutting it close.

“I …” Sehun didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t just lie … but he couldn’t tell the truth either. So he settled for saying, “I’m going to do my best to get away for a couple hours, okay? No promises, but it looks good.”

That seemed to satisfy Suho enough. 

“Are you excited to come back?” Sehun asked. He always asked the question, keeping his fingers crossed that Suho’s answer never changed.

It hadn’t changed this time, either.

Suho said, “Of course I am. I can’t wait to get back onto Korean soil. Mmmmm, the food.”

“We had some pretty amazing food the last time Luhan and I were in New York,” Sehun pointed out.

“True,” Suho allowed. “But there’s no substitute for Korean food. There’s nothing like it on the planet. Sehun?”

“Yeah?”

“My mom asked something. She wants to pass it along to you, she’s just worried she might … ruffle some feathers.”

“Ruffle feathers? Why would she think that? She can ask me anything.” Sehun didn’t have the close relationship with Suho and Jae’s parents that he once had, and for obvious reasons, but they still had a good one. Usually once a month Sehun would go to church with them, and they’d even been up to visit Jae’s grave a couple of times. It was important to him that they stayed in his life, no matter how painful of a remind they could be at times.

“You know mom,” Suho said, and Sehun could imagine him shrugging. “She wants to have a family dinner. A close family dinner.”

Sehun frowned. “Okay …”

“Without Luhan.”

That was what Suho had meant about ruffling feathers.

Suho rushed to day, “You know she and my father think Luhan is lovely, and they’ve met Youri a couple of times.They’re so happy for you, Sehun. They think you’re so blessed to have Luhan. But they’ve asked me to see if you’d be willing to come to dinner with just us. She doesn’t want to exclude Luhan and Youri in a malicious way, but she wants to … I don’t know, have a piece of the past back. She just wants to pretend for a second, I think.”

“I don’t know …”

“If you don’t want to, I understand,” Suho said easily enough, like it wasn’t a slight in the least. “I think my parents are just lonely. They’re over the grief of losing Jae, and now they’re just lonely.”

That, Sehun understood.

For as close as Suho was with his parents, Jae had been infinitely more. He’d certainly been their baby in every way, and that had reflected on the relationship they’d had. Jae had spent a lot of his free time at his parent’s home, and aside from going to church with them every Sunday, he’d also been involved in many community based activities with them. Sehun had never really stopped to think about it, but Jae dying had probably created a huge void in their lives that went beyond a personal loss.

Maybe they were just lonely.

“I’ll talk to Luhan about this,” Sehun said, and he could have laughed at himself over it. He couldn’t even talk to Luhan about the smallest of things right now. “But I guess tentatively, knowing Luhan, you can tell your parents its fine.”

Suho had told Luhan years ago that he forgave too easily. Sehun thought Luhan was too kind, sometimes. 

Luhan was the kind of person who could get eaten up by the world so easily, if there was too little care.

And that wasn’t something Sehun could let happen. Especially if he was the cause. 

“I’ve got to go,” Sehun told Suho, reaching to turn the key in his car. He wasn’t getting anything done sitting in his own self-pity, going over the facts from only his perspective. He needed someone else to bounce ideas off, and give him real feedback. He needed help, he needed a test run, and he needed to get it right before he brought his trouble to Luhan. 

He needed Chen.

“It’s well enough,” Suho said. “I’m hungry. I think I’ll go grab something to eat before my flight. I’ll see you in a short while, okay. Tell Luhan I’ll see him tomorrow afternoon, and give Youri my love.”

Sehun snorted, “Any more love and she’s liable to explode from it.”  
  
“Oh, Sehun,” Suho scoffed, “you should be so thankful for me being the best uncle in the world. I keep Youri supplied in affection and toys so you can Luhan can focus on that new baby of yours.”

“Who,” Sehun guessed, “you’ll spoil to death, too.”

“He is going to be a token of honor for my family, isn’t he?”

Sehun said a little snappishly, “Goodbye, Suho. Have a safe flight.”

“See you soon.”

After the call had ended, Sehun looked down at the phone. Suho had given so much to Sehun, and to Luhan. He’d sacrificed time and effort, and a dozen other things. Even if Sehun hadn’t owed it to Luhan to get his mess worked out, he certainly owed it to Suho.

So that took him back to Chen. 

Putting the car in reverse, Sehun pulled out of his parking spot. Of course, there was no guarantee that Chen would be able to help with anything. But Chen could probably give him the courage and support he needed to sit down with Luhan and be honest. 

That was how he found himself standing in front of Xiumin’s door just after the noon hour, pushing the doorbell. Xiumin was certain to be at work, he worked all kinds of crazy hours and practical slept at that clinic of his, but Sehun was hoping for different with Chen. He had his fingers crossed that Chen hadn’t slipped out for anything, and wasn’t visiting friends just yet. 

Sehun had some kind of luck, because after a minute or so of waiting, the door opened and Chen looked at him with an expression of surprise.

“Sehun?” 

All of the sudden Sehun felt like crying. Because all he could see was his best friend, and someone that he trusted, who’s help he needed.

“What’s wrong?” Chen asked, stepping out of the house and towards Sehun.

“Can I talk to you?” Sehun managed.

Chen reached out to wrap his fingers around Sehun’s wrist. He didn’t say anything, he merely tugged Sehun into the house. 

Familiar with Xiumin’s exceptionally neat home, Sehun waited in the living room as Chen made them tea. And then could barely bring himself to drag his eyes from his laced fingers when Chen set the cups down on the living table. 

Chen didn’t push. He didn’t speak. He merely sat across from Sehun and waited. 

It was the mark of a great best friend.

“I messed up,” Sehun finally had the courage to say. “I took on more than I could handle. I misjudged something. I made a mistake. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Chen sipped at his tea, then requested, “Tell me.”

With some flush of pride, and pure, unadulterated love, Sehun reminded, “Luhan and I, we’re pregnant. We’re finally having that second baby we talked about.”

Chen chuckled and pointed out, “I’m pretty sure Luhan is the one physically having the baby, but yes, I’m aware of your impending fatherhood. Even though you still won’t tell me what you’re naming him, I forgive you.”

That forced a small smile onto Sehun’s face, at least until he said, “I want so much for my family, Sehun. My parents, they weren’t together when I was growing up, but I never wanted for anything. I was always provided for. No matter what class I wanted to take, hobby I wanted to learn, or place I wanted to visit, my family had the means. I’m the man I am today because I was able to get out there and do things and experience life. I won’t have any less for Youri and the new baby.”

“Fair enough,” Chen agreed. “Where does the mistake come into play? You make good money, and when Luhan gets the right inspiration and paints, he sells well.”

“I make enough for a family of three,” Sehun corrected. “I make enough for Youri to live the life she deserves, but do you know how much kids actually cost? It took years for Luhan and I to agree we were at the right place for a new baby, and god willing, we’ll have another one after this. I knew I needed more—money that is.” 

It wasn’t just his family depending on him financially, either, that had really pushed at him. Sehun was driven. He was ambitious. He wanted to move higher in the company because his pride demanding it, and because he knew he was capable of it. He wanted the promotion to prove he could get it, maybe even more than he’d thought he needed it.

“You didn’t get in bed with the mafia or something, did you?” Chen questioned.

Sehun ignored that, and instead said, “Then my boss brought me in on a deal—the biggest deal the company has ever been up for. He put it on my shoulders to win the client over, and that’s what I’ve been doing for months now. I’ve been stressing, and worrying, and doubting myself. I told my boss I could win the contract. I told my boss I was worth the promotion and the cash advance. I assured everyone.”

Chen winced. “And you didn’t?”

Sehun snorted. “The opposite.”

There was such intensity in the room as Chen looked at him oddly. “So, you scored the big deal. What’s the problem?”

Fingers dragging up into his hair, Sehun said quickly, “All I could think about was the money, and the contract, the prestige, and what it would mean. I thought that if I got the client and locked him in, all my problems would be over. I thought it was a good thing. I really thought.” He let his chin hit his chest as he hung his head low.

What kind of fool was he, stumbling into something without thinking it through?

“The client,” Sehun said with a raspy, worn voice, “he’s based out of Hong Kong. He does his business there, and he’s not the one who’ll be flying out to our meetings. I have to go to him.”

“And you,” Chen guessed, “are worried about leaving Luhan during his pregnancy?”

“You don’t understand,” Sehun stressed out. “This isn’t going to be one-time thing, or even a four or five-time thing. This contract is going to take at least six months to fulfill. Starting Saturday.”

Slowly, Chen pointed out, “The party is Saturday.”

“It’s not just about leaving while Luhan is pregnant,” Sehun continued. “If the dates work out the way I think they will, oh god, Chen, I’ll probably miss the birth of my son.”

Chen sat back in his chair. “Well, shit.”

This time around, Sehun’s nerves were less frayed, but he needed to be there when Luhan went into the operating room. He needed to hold his hand, and kiss him, and reassure both himself and Luhan that everything was going to be fine.

Then he needed to wait the time out, surrounded by supportive friends and family, all he while the worst-case scenarios ran wild though his imagination. 

He absolutely needed to be the first person to hold his son after the delivery, and revel in the magnificence of his birth, and whisper to him how much he was loved and wanted.

“Can’t you—” Chen started.

Sehun shook his head right away. “My boss was very clear. This is my job. This is my responsibility. If I don’t do this … if I let this deal fall through.”

His boss hadn’t explicitly said it, but Sehun was sure he was fired if he ruined the deal, and all he needed to do in order for that to happen, was not be in Hong Kong when he was expected to be. 

“So, this is where I’m at,” Sehun huffed out, not even frustrated anymore, not just exhausted. “If I do my job, the thing Luhan and I sacrificed so much for, I’ll be letting my family down. And if I don’t? How can Luhan and I survive, with two children—one of them a brand-new baby, if I get walking papers?”

Chen insisted, “You’re an amazing graphic artist, Sehun. If you lose your job, another opportunity will come along.”

Sehun demanded, “But how long will that take? And do you really think my boss isn’t going to get me blacklisted? You think he isn’t going to spread the word around that I was unprofessional?”

“Unprofessional,” Chen scoffed.

“It will be,” Sehun said bluntly. “To put my family before my job, would be unprofessional, no matter how backwards that sounds to us, because I agreed to this. I gave my word. And I secured the deal. It’s my responsibility to follow through.”

Heaviness in his tone, Chen wondered, “What did Luhan have to say about all of this?

Sehun gave him a withered look.

Chen’s eyes widened. “You stupid, stupid idiot, Sehun.”

Sehun exploded, “How could I tell him? How could I say that I asked him to give up so much—asked Youri to give up so much, only so in the end, I could leave them behind?”

“You’re not leaving them behind.”

“I’ll be gone,” Sehun argued, “During some of the most important months. I’ll risk missing my husband give birth to our son. And you’re telling me that’s not leaving them behind?” He pulled a bit at his hair. “There’s no win here, Chen. There’s no way out that I can see, either. There’s just my stupidity, rushing into something I didn’t think through. And now my family has to pay the price.”

Chen tried, “Luhan will understand.”

“I don’t want Luhan to understand!” Sehun regretted yelling right away, but it had just burst out of him. He followed in a much more subdued way, “I don’t want that for Luhan, Chen. I don’t want him to give more for me, and be okay with not being there. That’s beyond not okay, and I’m scared he’ll say go. I’m scared he will understand, because you know how Luhan is, and you know what he’ll do for someone he loves.”

There was pity on Chen’s face now, and Sehun hated it. 

“How can you keep this from him?” Chen questioned. “Sehun, the party is Saturday.”

“And I’m supposed to be sitting on a plane when it’s happening. I know.” He grit his teeth. “Also, I’ve kind of been … avoiding Luhan.”

“I’m starting to understand why Suho would hit you over the back of the head so often,” Chen observed, and he rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “You can’t avoid your husband, Sehun.”

“I know.”

“And you’re shit for trying.”

Sehun ground out, “Yes, Chen. I know. Now stop berating me and help.”

“I’m not,” Chen returned, “saying anything you don’t already know. But yes, I will help you.”

Sehun deflated with relief. “Help me think up something—anything to fix this.”

Chen stood abruptly, nearly startling Sehun. Then he said, “Come on.”

“Come on?” Sehun echoed. “Where are we going?”

Chen gestured for Sehun to follow him, but did say, “The same place we always go when one of us is having breakdown of some sort.”

“Oh,” Sehun said. And for a brief second, he didn’t feel like the world was crashing down on him.

They weren’t teenagers anymore. They weren’t even young adults, now. So they couldn’t eat the way they had in the past, and Luhan was always side-eying Sehun’s test results when he had his biannual physicals. But all the same, Chen and Sehun went to the frozen yoghurt shop that they’d been patrons of for the better part of fifteen years, and ordered far more than they could handle.

Sehun didn’t care. It wasn’t even about the food, not really. It was about the comfort of the shop, and being with his best friend, and knowing that for the next minute, or hour, or year, he was in a safe space.

“Sehun,” Chen said when he was halfway through his raspberry yoghurt. “You’re not supposed to do this anymore.”

Sehun’s shoulders folded. “Do what?”

“This,” Chen said knowingly. “Bottling things up. You know I don’t pry about you and your therapist. You know that’s not my business. What you choose to tell me, I will protect to the death as a private matter, but you have said that you and your therapist set out rules ages ago. And one of those rules is that you can’t keep things in. You can’t let them build until your anxiety gets out of control and you end up like this. You made a promise to your therapist, to yourself, and to Luhan.”

Sehun couldn’t deny that. Three and a half years into his ongoing therapy, Sehun felt like he needed it just as much now, as when he had been at his worst. And Chen was also right that he’d broken his word. From the moment the pressure had started building up on him at work, he’d broken his promise to always communicate, and not to keep things inside. He’d done it without even realizing it, and by the time he had, it was too late to go back.

“It’s not so simple,” Sehun defended. 

But twice a month he saw this therapist, and now twice a month for months on end, he’d been guilty of breaking one of their most important rules. 

Breaking the rules meant risking the honesty and openness they had established so long ago, and that threatened everything. 

Chen warned, “You go down this path, Sehun, and what you’re risking …”

“I solve this and I’ll come clean,” Sehun promised. “If I manage to get out of this, I’ll have learned my lesson for life.”

Chen pushed his spoon through his frozen yoghurt. “You need to come clean now, at least to Luhan. He’s your partner. And he’s pregnant, sure, but he’s not delicate. Luhan has never been delicate. More than that, he deserves to know what’s going on. If he’s going to be delivering alone, he should know. And if he’s about to become the sole bread winner, then that’s important to know, too. Luhan’s my friend, Sehun, and I don’t know if I can …”

Sehun asked stiffly, “Is this you telling me that I need to say something, or you will?”

For a moment, Chen didn’t reply. He stared down at his yoghurt. Then he said, “No. Sehun, if I have to make that call, no matter what kind of damage it could do, my loyalty is to you above all others.”

When Sehun took his next bite of frozen yoghurt, it tasted like ash.

“But you need to tell him,” Chen stated.

“And I will,” Sehun swore. “But when I do, I want to be able to tell him that I got it figured out, and that we’re going to be okay.”

More kindly now, Chen said, “You two are always okay, and you know that. You go through fire and flame and come out on top.”

In the past, Sehun agreed that that was the case. But he wasn’t willing to wager the future on their luck. Not with a new baby on the way.

“So this project,” Chen said, finally getting back to the matter at hand. “You can’t be the only one who worked on it.”

“No, I wasn’t.” Sehun nodded. “Chanyeol and I formed a partnership. We’ve done it before in the past, and we work well together, but this was the first time so much was riding on us working together. Maybe that added to the pressure. But Chanyeol and I spent months together brain storming and putting our all into this. Some interns helped, too.”

“Then Chanyeol knows the material just as well as you. Why can’t he take roughly half the trips to Hong Kong? Especially the ones too close to Luhan’s due date?”

Now Sehun was stabbing his spoon into the yoghurt. “Because the client said specifically that it needed to be me. I need Chanyeol there, but this is on my shoulders. I was the lead on the project. I put my name on it first, and I get the feeling the client thinks I’m the brains behind it.”

Chen gave a long laugh. “You kind of are,” he said. “Chanyeol is great with the more technical aspects of things, but he’s not overly creative. You’ve got a mind for it, Sehun. That’s why the two of you work so well together. You think the idea up, and he refines it.”

“The point is,” Sehun sighed out. “The client wants me or nothing at all. And if I don’t go, if I don’t put my job before Luhan and Youri and the baby, I know I’ll be fired.”

“I take it your boss is a hardass?”

Sehun scoffed, “Do you mean if I explain it to him, will he understand?”

Chen nodded.

“Not even close.” That was the worst of it, Sehun decided. His boss wasn’t even on his side. “His own promotion is riding on this, and his name as the head of the department. If I back out and screw him, he’ll make sure I get screwed. That’s the point where I lose my job and get blacklisted.”

Chen gnawed down on his bottom lip, obviously in thought. “Would it be so bad?”

Sehun was flabbergasted. “Losing my job? Would losing my job be so bad?”

He and Luhan had an okay savings account, but that money wouldn’t hold them over for more than six months, not if they wanted to maintain their quality of life.Eventually the money would run out, and then where would they be? Luhan wouldn’t be ready to go back to painting at that point, Sehun would be hunting for a job in a market that wouldn’t even look at his resume. 

“I mean,” Chen said, “what if you got out of graphic design, especially marketing and advertising for a while? Sehun, it’s kind of running you into the ground right now. What if you changed that up?”

“And do what?” Sehun asked, probably more curious now than anything else. 

Chen pointed out, “Your brother-in-law is a powerhouse of influence. He could get you in doing any number of things, bringing home a more than decent salary.”

Pushing his frozen yoghurt to the side, Sehun let his head thump down on the table. “So that’s what I’m supposed to do? Get fired, and then use my personal ties to get into a field I know nothing about, probably taking the job of someone who deserves it more than me?”

Chen reached across the table and flicked Sehun in the ear. “I didn’t say that was a fair thing, but welcome to the corporate world. You’re old enough and smart enough to know better. I’m not saying stick with it forever, or let Suho get you in somewhere at the top of the chain. I’m saying maybe you need a break from what you’re doing right now, with a job where you have less pressure and responsibilities, and where you can be there for the birth of your son.”

“People would talk,” Sehun tried.

Chen didn’t look impressed. “People always talk, when in reality half of the people who work downtown got there because of who their mother or uncle or old brother or whoever, is. You’d be no different.”

Could he do that? Could he let Suho get him in a different company, doing something he had never trained for in the past? Could he stomach the idea of looking at a spreadsheet all day, instead of anything artistic?

For Luhan and their family, Sehun knew he could do anything. But as to if he wanted to, that was a whole different thing.

“Just think about it.” Chen urged him up off the table. “But think quick. Honestly, I think you’re backed into a corner here, and I can’t help you think your way out. So you’ve got a couple of options here, none which are great, but only one which matters.”

Sehun supposed, “Talk to Luhan.”

“Of course.” Chen went right back to his yoghurt. “I’m guessing Luhan will be mad as hell at you if you have to miss some important dates, but better he knows now, instead of you just not showing up to something. And you’re risking hurting your relationship with him if you don’t say anything soon. He trusts you, Sehun. He trusts you with everything. What if he finds you lying to him, or keeping this from him? Will he trust you then? I doubt it.”

“I just …” Sehun squeezed his eyes shut. “I just don’t want to hurt him. If I don’t say something, I don’t hurt him.”

Chen snorted. “It’s going to come out eventually, and soon at that. You’ll hurt him more if you wait. This is like a Band-Aid, probably. Better to just rip it off now, than slowly later on, once the adhesive has set in.”

In a sulky way, Sehun said, “He’s going to be so disappointed about Saturday. This means a lot to him, and I’m ruining it.”

“Better you than me,” Chen offered quietly, looking past Sehun to the window where people where passing by on the street. “I’m kind of lucking out here. You get to be the focus of everyone’s anger, not me when I have to explain why I came without Eunji.”

Sehun leaned an elbow up on the table and asked, “I hope you didn’t think I wasn’t going to ask about that.”

“Nah, I knew you would. You’re my best friend. I’ll tell you. Just …”

Carefully, with all the delicacy he could manage, Sehun asked, “It’s the baby thing, isn’t it?”

Chen gave a wince of a smile. “It’s always the baby thing.”

“Let’s take a walk,” Sehun said. “We’ve probably eaten a couple pounds worth of frozen yoghurt.”

Chen didn’t put up a fight as they dumped their containers in the trash and headed out into the late afternoon sun.

“I think,” Chen said sometime later, as the sun set behind buildings in the distance, and the moon rose in the distance, “this was the last time, Sehun. I think we might be done. I think …”

Sehun’s phone in his pocket gave a shudder of a vibration. “Ignore it,” Sehun said, “keep going. You don’t really think you’re done and you know it. You want this so bad, Chen. You both—”

Chen shook his head. “Eunji wants something different now, and I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Again, Sehun’s phone rang, and Sehun reached for it when Chen gave a pointed stare. He frowned at the number on the screen. He certainly didn’t recognize it. 

“Hello?” he answered unsurely. 

A pleasant female voice came over the phone asking, “Is this Oh Sehun?”

“Yes,” Sehun eased out slowly. “This is he.”

“Who is it?” Chen asked.

The voice continued, “This is Cheil General, we have you listed as the emergency contact for your husband, Oh Han?”

There was nothing close to describable about the feeling of fear that rushed its way through Sehun’s body in that moment.

“Sehun?” Chen demanded, gripping his elbow tightly. “Sehun, what’s wrong?”

“Sir?” the girl on the phone asked. “Sir, are you still there? There’s been an accident.”

Sehun’s knees unlocked, and down he went.


	7. Chapter Seven: Luhan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Hello there readers!  I'm on vacation for the rest of the month, city hopping and airport hopping. And as such a thing happens, I've gotten a pretty big delay in my flight tonight. So I had two options. I could either respond to comments on the previous chapter, or edit/post a new one. I kind of figured you guys would want a new chapter more. So enjoy this update and I'll be back in June! *

Luhan’s fingers were clutched tightly to the white sheets slung down low on his hips, and despite how the nurse had tried to get him to relax his grip twice now, Luhan wasn’t relenting. He wasn’t giving an inch, actually, until he knew for sure. Until he was certain.

The ultrasound gel was frigid on his skin like it always was, but Luhan was barely registering it. In fact, he wasn’t even sure what part of the hospital he was in. The emergency room? The pregnancy ward? The part of the hospital that Luhan had needed to frequent when there’d been fear that he could have gestational diabetes again with his second pregnancy?

It really was impossible to guess. And Luhan had better things to concentrate on, than where he was currently located. 

Nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to pull his gaze away from the monitor next to the bed that everyone was expecting to display a picture of a healthy, alive baby, in a matter of seconds. 

Still woozy from the knock he’d taken to the head, and the word concussion had been thrown around, the room spun a little. Luhan gripped tighter to the sheets. 

Hysteria was creeping up on him with every moment he couldn’t see his baby, with every second the picture had yet to come through clearly on the monitor.

Because he couldn’t feel the baby. 

As soon as he’d gotten his senses about him, right after the crash impact, he’d tried feeling for the baby. His baby was notorious for kicking back whenever Luhan pushed down on a specific spot, as if they were playing a game. Luhan always joked it was as steady and constant as this second pregnancy which was running smoothly.

Or had been.

But when Luhan had pushed down, there’d been no kick back. The baby hadn’t made his presence known, and Luhan couldn’t stomach the idea of what that meant.

Don’t jump to conclusions, he’d hissed to himself when he’d realized he was no longer in a smoking, damaged car, and instead being transferred from an ambulance stretcher to a hospital bed. Don’t panic and don’t lose it.

He’d come inches away from hyperventilating.

“Hmmm,” the doctor eased out, and the nurse next to him echoed the sound with one of her own.

Luhan could have reached across the bed and throttled the both of them. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Is the baby okay?’ Luhan demanded, probably for the millionth time. “Is he okay?”

“I see the form,” the doctor said, barely sparing Luhan a look of comfort. “I’ll check for a fetal heartbeat.”

He said it so nonchalant. He said it like things would be perfectly okay if Luhan’s baby didn’t have a heartbeat anymore. 

He was not Luhan’s regular doctor.

When Eunji had gotten her grant to go study new, innovative techniques of in-womb surgery, she’d left the country with barely six month’s notice. And naturally, as her husband, Chen had gone with her. That meant that Luhan had lost a good friend in Chen, but most importantly, he’d lost a doctor that he trusted and admired and believed in.

For a while, he’d thought there couldn’t possibly be another doctor that even came close to half of what Luhan felt for Eunji. And he’d certainly gone through doctors like Sehun went through his anxiety medication. Luhan wasn’t going to trust his baby to just anyone, but the weeks had passed in his pregnancy, and he’d gotten desperate.

It was ultimately that desperation which had led Luhan to take a chance on a doctor Eunji had recommended. She’d said to him, “I’d never put you in the hands of someone I wouldn’t trust with my own baby, Luhan. Park Chorong is someone I consider having had the privilege to work with. She’s upfront and honest, and when it comes time to make the right call in a tough situation, she’s someone who can keep her head on straight and her wits about her. Doctor Park has delivered thousands of babies, worked on dozens of high profile cases, and for you, Luhan, she’ll be what you need.

She was. She was everything and more. Of course she wasn’t Eunji, who was a personal friend, but she was a nice substitute, and she made Luhan feel safe.

But this week, this week of all weeks, Chorong had gone away to a conference in Toronto, and she wasn’t expected to be back for another ten days.

She wasn’t going to fly all the way back just because Luhan had had an accident. She was an amazing physician, but she wasn’t his personal doctor solely. 

There wouldn’t be a need for her, anyway, if this other, cold, distant doctor couldn’t find his son’s heartbeat.

If his baby died … if…

Luhan blinked back sudden tears, his eyes burning fiercely. 

If he’d lost Youri, if anything had happened with her when Luhan had been pregnant, Luhan would have died himself. He’d have had nothing left to live for. But things were different now. Luhan couldn’t go on without his baby, but he couldn’t leave Youri, either.

Don’t think about it, he told himself, practically biting down on his tongue to stop himself from saying the words aloud. Don’t go there.

“Is that damage to the amniotic sack?” the nurse asked, head tilted to the side.

“What’s wrong with my baby!” Luhan demanded.

He tried to sit up, but too strong of hands pushed him down on the bed, and Luhan’s head throbbed.

He could feel the stitches at his hairline pulling, stitches that another, different doctor had sewn in while they were waiting for a doctor to arrive with an ultrasound machine. The stitches burned still, because until they knew for sure whether the baby was alive or dead, they couldn’t risk giving him the stronger main medication. 

Luhan would have given up all pain medication, ever, just for his baby to be okay.

“False alarm, I think,” the doctor said lightly. “Ah, and here’s the heartbeat. It’s a little weak, probably due to trauma and stress, but I don’t think there’s any cause for worry.”

Luhan sunk hard back into the pillow behind him.

The baby was okay. There was a heartbeat. 

“See,” the doctor said, finally giving him a long look. “If you’d been just a little more patient, we could have gotten to that sooner.”

Luhan wanted Chorong back so badly.

The nurse asked the doctor, “Are you coming to the benefit gala?”

And then the two of them were holding a whole conversation as if Luhan hadn’t been just about to lose what little sanity he had left.

“Why isn’t he moving?” Luhan asked in a thin voice. “He always moves.” He wasn’t viciously active like Youri had been, but he was a constant ripple under skin now. And Luhan, even now assured he still lived, was unnerved by how little he was moving.

“I’ll send someone over to talk to you,” the doctor said dismissively. “Doctor Im is on rotation tonight. I’m sure he’ll explain everything.” 

“Wait,” Luhan said, now more angry than anything else. “You can’t just say a few words and then leave.” He could already see the doctor and nurse inching towards the door. “I have questions, and you’re going to answer them. I need to know what’s going on.”

“Another doctor is on his way,” the departing one called out, and Luhan watched him go.

“Asshole,” Luhan said sharply, to the empty room. Silence was the reply.

He took in a series of deep, barely stead breaths, and brought his hands to his stomach. He splayed his fingers and waited desperately for some sign of life inside. Anything. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said to himself, this time without muteness. “It’s okay, Han. He’s alive. He’s got a heartbeat. He’s okay.”

He felt like such a fraud, because how could he focus on that, when all he could think of was the moment he’d come to in the car. 

There was nothing lucky about being involved in a car accident.And it was all too obvious now, especially now, how easily Luhan could have died, or the baby, or the both of them.

Like Jae.

Oh, god, they could have died just like Jae and Seoyoung had. And it wouldn’t matter that they’d died by being struck by a car, walking in a crosswalk. All that would matter would be what the doctor had to tell Sehun, and how Sehun would …

Luhan didn’t know what Sehun would have done. It was too scary to imagine what Sehun’s response would have been, knowing that Youri would have countless family members and close family friends to love her and raise her. 

Luhan wrenched himself to the side, getting his feet over the edge of the bed and sitting up. 

Sehun was going to lose it, even though Luhan and the baby were okay. He was going to lose his mind. It was something that Luhan didn’t know how to make better, and it was a hurricane that would be heading in his way as soon as the hospital called him and relayed what had happened.

Across the room Luhan could see his personal effects had been placed on an uncomfortable looking chair. His clothes were bloody, probably from his headwound, and so they’d been sealed in plastic. But Luhan’s wallet had survived mostly unscathed, and the hospital would have had the ID inside to facilitate that, and his cellphone was tucked in next to it. 

Any second now Sehun was going to come bursting through the doors. Enough time had passed.

Luhan could mark the passage of time by the sun in the distance. He remembered the blinding light of the setting sun when the accident had happened. Presumably, another car had failed to see him because of it. And it was pitch black out now. 

One more time, Luhan pushed down on his stomach, on the underside, to the left, and waited.

Nothing.

“He saw a heartbeat,” Luhan argued. “He saw one.”

But a weak one. That was what he’d said. His baby had a weak heartbeat. How was that not a cause for concern?

No. 

Luhan wasn’t going to let that stand. He wasn’t going to let his baby be endangered because of some prick of a doctor who didn’t care enough.

And there was only one person Luhan trusted to talk him down off the ledge.

He was achy and stiff when he slid from the bed, and his legs were so weak he nearly toppled down to the ground. But it was only a residual kind of ache. Aside from the knock to the head he’d taken, he was perfectly fine. Luhan didn’t know how, he suspected that was something he’d find out in the coming days, but he’d survived the impact. He’d been able to walk away. 

It took some time and effort, but eventually Luhan got to the other side of the room. He fumbled his phone into his hands, and retreated back to the bed. 

He couldn’t rest until he was sure, and there was only one person’s who’s word he would take as truth.

When Eunji answered the phone, Luhan could hear the uncertainty in her voice. Usually they emailed more than anything. Eunji spent most of her time in her lab, and when she wasn’t, she was at the local hospital, doing a round or two. It was notoriously difficult to get Eunji on the phone. But Luhan hadn’t been thinking about that when he’d called her. He’d only been thinking of her medical knowledge, and how much of a friend she was. 

“Eunji,” Luhan breathed out, more on the edge of panic than anything else. “I need your help. The baby … there was an accident and I can’t feel him now. I can’t feel him, and the doctor is an asshole, and I don’t trust what he says, and I—”

“Luhan,” she said quickly, already taking control of the conversation. “Wait. Slow down and speak clearly. You said there was an accident? Are you okay? What happened?”

Luhan steadied himself, risking a glance to the door. The doctor who’d looked his baby over had certainly been a dick of epic proportions, but Luhan didn’t doubt that eventually that someone else would be by to put him in a proper recovery room, at least until he was discharged. They’d probably take his phone then, or at least make him turn it off.

Luhan wasn’t going to waste the opportunity he had.

“Eunji,” he said, trying to be stronger, “I was in a car accident. I was driving. A car blind sighted me.”

“Are you okay?” she asked again, evenly. “Is the baby okay?”

It felt a little childish to say, but Luhan told her anyway, “This doctor came in, he was supposed to check the baby, to make sure he’s okay. Because Eunji, I can’t feel the baby move around. I can’t feel him, and I can always feel him. Eunji, what does it mean that I can’t feel him?”

She let him go for a few more minutes begore her voice cut across the line sharply, “You need to focus, Luhan. You said a doctor came in and checked the baby. An obstetrician?”

Luhan swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yes. He was a jerk, a total jerk, too.”

“Tell me what he said.”

She was all doctor now. Gone was Luhan’s friend, and there was his doctor. He’d never felt such gratefulness for such a thing.

“He found a heartbeat,” Luhan revealed. “But he said it’s weak. Eunji, he said the heartbeat is weak. And they thought that the baby’s amniotic sack might be leaking, and I don’t know what to do, and I’m freaking out, and Sehun isn’t here yet but when he is he’s going to lose his mind, and I don’t know what to do.”

“What you’re going to do,” Eunji ordered, “is look around the room. I presume you’re in a hospital room. So look around. When they brought you in, at least for the ultrasound, a chart came with you. South Korea is advancing many of its medical techniques in a cutting edge way, but the country is still woefully behind when it comes to patient records. South Korea is still on the paper system. So your patient information is going to be somewhere near you in a chart. I need you to find it for me.”

His eyes darting around the room, Luhan searched for it. A chart. His chart was probably in the room somewhere.

He found it slotted onto the side of the bed, near the foot of it, on the opposite side nearest the door.

“I’ve got it,” he said almost breathlessly, flipping it over. There were words and numbers in it, but it all meant nothing to him. A feeling of frustration was welling up in him almost immediately. “Eunji, I don’t know what any of this means.”

“No,” she agreed kindly, “that’s why I’m here. So we’re going to start at the top. Tell me what they initially assessed your condition as when you were brought in, and we’ll go from there.”

The truth was, Eunji was a godsend. She walked him through bullet point after bullet point of his chart, and she didn’t just give him affirmative reasons not to worry, she also explained what everything meant. She was patient, and thorough, and nothing like the doctor who’d been in the room recently. 

“You know what all of that tells me?” Eunji asked when they’d gotten through the first three pages of the chart.

“Tell me,” Luhan urged.

“I means,” Eunji said in her soft voice, “that you’re suffering from mild shock, a mild conclusion, and slightly elevated blood pressure that I assure you, is an automatic response from your nervous system from the car accident. Because of the trauma, your body is triggering the fight or flight response, and it’s going to take some time for that to wear off. You need to be patient, but those numbers do not indicate a need for immediate concern. You are fine, Luhan. You’re made of sterner things than you give yourself credit for.”

It was just Luhan wasn’t concerned about what kinds of things he personally was made of. He didn’t care about himself at all, compared to his baby.

“But the baby,” Luhan said, voicing his real fear. “Why can’t I feel the baby? Why is—”

Eunji stopped him to say, “You’ve just gone through an extreme trauma, Luhan. You’re riding high on adrenaline right now. And you’d better believe that baby is being effected. Give yourself some time to recover. Give yourself the night. If you don’t feel the regular fetal movement in the morning, then we’ll do additional tests.”

“But it just …” It felt wrong not to feel the baby. 

“A lower than normal heart rate,” Eunji explained, “can be normal. None of the numbers you read to me indicate cause for alarm, at least not yet. You’re going to stay in the hospital overnight for a reason, you know. They’ll keep an eye on you and the baby, just in case. And if things are the same tomorrow, you call me right back and I’ll send Bomi over your way. She’s not that far from you, she’s an excellent doctor, and she owes me a pretty big favor.”

Luhan echoed, “Bomi?”

Eunji made a supportive noise. “Yoon Bomi. She’s very good, Luhan. If you still have worries in the morning, or if you just want someone that I trust to look you over, her services are yours. She can give you all the typical tests we would do with slowed fetal movement, and she’ll be kind and patient when she explains to you what it all means. Okay?”

And that, that definitely eased some of the fear in him. Not all of it was gone, not by a long shot, but if Eunji said not to worry yet, then he would do his best not to. 

“Okay.”

“You know, Luhan, you’re still in your second trimester. It’s not uncommon for fetal movement to be very irregular.”

“Okay, okay,” Luhan said again, more like a mantra. He felt like he was trying to convince himself. He probably was. “It’s just … this is my baby, Eunji. This is my son.”

“I know,” she said slowly. There was nothing but fondness in her voice. Then she surprised him by saying, “I’m going to send Bomi down to see you tomorrow anyway. I’ll make the call tonight. I’ll feel better knowing that she says everything is perfectly fine. And if … and this is a huge if, Luhan, we need to fix anything, or pay some special attention to that baby of yours, I’ll book a flight right away.”

At her words, Luhan frowned in puzzlement. “Book a … Eunji, why would you need to book a flight? You’re going to be here tomorrow with Chen anyway.”

There was far too much told with the silence that followed.

“Eunji?”

“Chen went ahead of me,” Eunji said, a strain to her words. “To Seoul, that is. I’m with my parents in Jeju. I don’t have any plans to join him in Seoul, either.” She seemed confused too when she asked, “I know Chen got there yesterday. He took the train from Jeju to Seoul. Hasn’t … hasn’t Sehun told you that?”

“No,” Luhan said, mood going flat. “He didn’t.” But it wasn’t as if he and Sehun had been communicating very well over the past few months, but it had been especially bad lately. Still, for Sehun not to mention Chen was in town, was odd.

Thought the bigger question was why Chen and Eunji weren’t traveling together.

Stuck by the oddness, Luhan asked, “So when will you be up here, Eunji? You’re cutting it very short. The party is on Saturday. Suho’s coming in tomorrow morning, and other than you, Lay’s bringing up the rear on Friday night.”

“Luhan,” Eunji said with regret.

“Eunji,” Luhan returned, but before he could press her on her on the issue, the door to his room opened, and in came a nurse Luhan had never seen before.

He watched her eyes drift from his face, down to the phone, and then back up to meet his gaze. She put her hands on her hips and said, “Sir, you can’t use that in here.”

“Eunji, I have to go.” Luhan lowered the phone. He certainly wasn’t done with her, or the concerning reveal that she and Chen had not only not traveled together, but that she also didn’t plan on attending the gathering at all. 

“We’re ready to move you to your room now, sir,” the nurse said. “But the hospital really has to insist that you restrict your phone usage to the designated areas.”

Luhan did his best to give her a reassuring smile. “Sorry.”He got the feeling by the look she gave him in return, that his smile had looked just about as fake as it felt. 

Twenty minutes later, however, he was tucked away in a room, fetal monitor strapped to his stomach, and his phone completely confiscated.

There was another person in the room, someone snoring behind a curtain, but that was hardly on Luhan’s mind. Instead he cradled his head in his hand as he lay on his side, watching the proof that his son was alive, desperately hoping that in any moment, he’d feel him move.

Luhan must have drifted off. He wasn’t sure when, he hadn’t even been tired, but he must have drifted at some point as the minutes wore on. Because he startled awake. A large sound echoed into the room, and Luhan nearly pulled the IV from the back of his hand as he jerked in response.

Something fiercely tight wrapped around him, shaking and shuddering, warm and solid, and Luhan was practically limp until he realized what it was.

Sehun.

It was Sehun holding him tight, Sehun shaking, and Sehun’s tears against the skin at Luhan’s neck.

“You’re here,” Luhan breathed out, sinking into his husband’s hold. It felt so good to have Sehun with him. Luhan felt stronger for his presence, and more like he could face whatever came next, as long as he had the man he loved, standing next to him.

He could hear Sehun mumbling, “I tried to come back here. I tried to get to you. They made me wait. They made me wait so long to see you.”

Luhan was certain it was past visiting hours now, and since Luhan had been moved out of the emergency section of the hospital, Sehun probably shouldn’t have been able to get to him. But then again Luhan pitied anyone who tried to keep Sehun from his family.

Luhan found the strength to hug Sehun back, and did so as tightly as he could. He assured, “I’m okay. I’m okay, Sehun.”

Sehun drew back slightly, tears in his eyes. “They called me on the phone, and said you had been in a car accident.”

Luhan gave a sharp nod. “I was driving to see you at your work. I … I wanted to talk to you. I had the right away. My light was green. But I think … I mean, I’m sure the driver that hit me didn’t do it on purpose.”

Sehun reared back a little, and his hold on Luhan even lightened. The look of guilt on Sehun’s face certainly wasn’t one that Luhan had expected. What did Sehun have to feel guilty for?

“I thought you …” Sehun managed to squeak out. 

Sehun was far, far too prone to falling into his own world, when trauma was presented. He was too capable of slipping through Luhan’s fingers, into irrationality, and Luhan wasn’t prepared to stomach that at the moment.

“I’m okay,” he repeated, and then pushed into Sehun’s hold when his husband’s hands framed his face. “I think they said I have a mild concussion, I had to have stitches for that and the nurses come around to check on me every half hour, but other than that, I’m okay.”

Sehun’s hands fell away from his face, and instead they moved down to cup at his stomach. No words were spoken, and if ever there was a time for the baby to make his presence known, this was it. But instead he remained still and quiet, and Luhan’s heart ached for the opposite. 

“We’re okay.”

Even if that was a lie, or even if it wasn’t, Luhan knew that was what Sehun needed to hear, and so he said it. 

“I think …” Sehun folded forward a little, putting his ear to Luhan’s stomach and draping over his lap, “I think I can’t do this. I can’t lose you. I can’t do that kind of loss.”  
  
“Good thing for you, you don’t have to.” Luhan let his fingers pet through Sehun’s hair slowly. “Because we are perfectly fine. We’re always going to be okay, in the end. Sometimes there are bumps in the road, but we deal with them, and we’re stronger for them.”

Sehun’s fingers stroked along the skin of his bump, and Luhan let him be.

“I want to talk to your doctor,” Sehun said, sitting up. “I want to hear from her, that you’re okay.”

Luhan reminded, “Chorong is on vacation, remember?”

“I’m not taking any chances with either of you,” Sehun declared. And then seemed to finally pull himself together. There was strength spreading across his face, and in just a few more seconds, he was the pillar that Luhan needed to lean against sometimes. “You are the most important person in the world to me, Luhan. I love you so much I … I still get breathless thinking about it.”

Sehun had such a way of making Luhan feel like a schoolboy again. It was in the way Sehun looked at him so reverently, and touched him so assuredly, and talked like he meant absolutely every declaration of love he said. Sehun could turn Luhan’s knees to jelly still. He kind of hoped that was something that never went away. 

“I think,” Luhan tried to joke, bumping his nose gently against Sehun’s, “Youri would be terribly offended by that. You know she likes to remind you constantly that you should love her above all others.”

“I love her with every bit of my heart,” Sehun vowed, and of, that, Luhan had never doubted. “But you,” he continued, “you are my soulmate, Luhan.”

The touch of Sehun’s lips to Luhan’s, sent him into a blissful plunge of respite. He let himself sink into the feeling of love being pressed into him, and soaked it up.

No matter what issues they were having, no matter the miscommunication or uncertainty, they loved each other. Luhan could feel how much when they kissed. And that love rose above all else. The minor problems? Those they could work out. All that mattered was that their kisses felt the same.

Luhan could very much vouch that the kiss he was now sharing with Sehun, felt just as good as the first. 

“Have a little faith,” Luhan urged when Sehun dared to pull back a little. His blunt fingernails scratched at the stubble on Luhan’s chin. “Have a little faith that I’m durable, and our baby is strong, and that we’re going to be okay.”

After some pause, Sehun paused, then stole another quick kiss. He asserted, “I know you’re amazing and wonderful, strong and durable. But a car accident … a car accident just like Jae.”

“Not like Jae,” Luhan interrupted. “This was different, and when your nerves calm down, and you can think clearly, you’ll know that. This wasn’t like Jae at all.”

“Just maybe be understanding?” Sehun broached.

“Understanding of what?”

A different voice answered this time, and it was Chen at the door to the room who said, “That he’s probably going to sit on you for the next four months, and you can kiss driving, or going anywhere exciting, or pretty much doing anything, goodbye for a long time.”

Luhan laughed out, “Wait until you see the car. I’m pretty sure I won’t be driving it anywhere, ever again. It’s pretty totaled.”

Chen let out a low whisper. “And you walked away from it.”

Luhan put his arms around Sehun’s neck and hugged him. He told Chen, “I was lucky.” He felt Sehun hug him back right away. “I veered away at the last second. The other car hit the passenger side. The airbags deployed properly. The structure of the car held up. I was definitely lucky.”

“Don’t we always joke about Jae watching out for you?” Sehun asked in a slightly muffled way. He palmed at the back of Luhan’s head protectively. “You know I’m not a big believer. You know I find all that religious stuff … dubious at best. But I feel it, Luhan. I feel Jae out there, watching out for you, watching out for our family. I feel it and it’s undeniable.”

Luhan certainly wasn’t religious at all, either. His parents were Taoists, but Luhan himself hadn’t been raised with any kind of faith in his life, and he had no want for it. For him, there was no desire for such a thing, though he certainly respected the moments when Sehun went to church with Suho’s family, or took part in a faith based activity at the church, from time to time. 

Luhan, unlike Sehun who could feel ambiguous at times, certainly didn’t believe in guardian angels. 

But if Sehun needed that belief to see him through some rocky events, then by no means was Luhan would to try and dissuade him. He also thought it was incredibly important that Sehun retained ties to his past.

“I take it you brought him,” Luhan asked Chen, meeting his eyes.

Chen nodded. “He was with me when we got the call. And he’s telling the truth. We got here just shortly after you were admitted, but they wouldn’t let anyone in to see you until the initial examination was done. And then they wanted to get you settled. By the time they were telling Sehun that he had to wait until the morning to see you, we called for backup.”

Luhan frowned. “Backup?”

“An attorney,” Chen said with a smirk.

Luhan’s eyebrows went high on his forehead. And then pleasure surged through him at the sight of Kris slipping through the door.

“I’m not an attorney,” Kris corrected. 

“No,” Chen agreed, “but you know more about the law than any of us, and you can pass as a lawyer if you want to.” Chen gave Luhan an amused look. “That’s what we made him do.”

Kris crossed to Luhan’s side the bed and practically elbowed Sehun out of the way so he could hug him. Then he said, “I never explicitly said whether I was a lawyer or not. I simply let the hospital know about Sehun’s rights as your husband, and what kind of charges could be levied at them for any breach in procedure. Oh, and did I mention, I actually know a chair member of this hospital? One who holds significant stock?”

“You’re amazing,” Luhan said awed.

“You’re trouble,” Kris said back to him. But then his face softened and he said, “Are you really okay?”

“I am,” Luhan assured. His eyes drifted to Chen pointedly, and he said, “I spoke to Eunji on the phone earlier, just to be safe. She thinks my numbers aren’t a cause for concern right now, but she’s sending a specialist friend of hers over to see me in the morning, just in case.”

Chen went white at the mention of Eunji. And Sehun’s stiffening body posture said that he knew he was moments away from being caught hiding the fact that he already knew Eunji and Chen hadn’t traveled together. 

“She had a few, very interesting things to say,” Luhan said, an edge to his words. “I think we’re going to have a lot to talk about later. Don’t you think Chen? Sehun?”

Looking bewildered, Kris just struggled and said, “I got Sehun permission to stay overnight at the hospital with you in the room. You don’t have to worry about being separated.”

“Thank you,” Luhan said, meaning it deeply.

“Not a problem,” Kris said. “Now can I go home?”

“Go, go,” Luhan urged. Then he turned to Sehun sharply and asked, “What about Youri? Where is she? Is she okay? Does she know what’s going on?”

There was fresh fear bubbling at the back of Luhan’s throat at the mere mention of his daughter. She could have been with him in the car. If Luhan had decided to take her with him, or if there’d been a need for it, she might have been involved in the car accident. And Youri’s car seat sat behind the passenger seat. She would have been on the impact side of the car. 

“I called around,” Chen assured Luhan. “Xiumin’s got Youri. He’s going to take her over to his house for the night and keep her distracted. As far as she’s concerned, you and Sehun are off having fun without her, or doing boring adult things, or whatever Xiumin wants to sell her on. My point is, she’s none the wiser of what happened, and I kind of get the feeling that’s what you’d prefer.”

Sehun gave a serious nod. “Absolutely.”

“I don’t want to worry her,” Luhan said.

“Then,” Chen eased out, “I’m going to go too, okay. I need to make some calls and let everyone know you’re okay. They all wanted to charge down here and storm the hospital, and they just barely listened to me when I said that wasn’t a great idea. If they know you’re doing okay, they’ll be less likely to bother you.”

“You guys aren’t a bother,” Luhan said with a chuckle.

“Yes you are,” Luhan’s roommate announced sharply, throwing a pillow in their direction. “I’m trying to sleep!”

Chen burst into laughter as he made for the door. 

“I guess it’s just me and you now,” Sehun whispered at Luhan. He leveled himself up on the bed after kicking his shoes off and stretched out next to Luhan. He put his arm around Luhan and pulled him in close.

“The three of us,” Luhan laughed out.

Sehun agreed, “Okay, the three of us.” He made a point of smoothing down the fabric of Luhan’s hospital pajama top over his bump. “Youri aside, all the matters are the three of us right now.”

Luhan gave a hum of agreement. 

At some point, between the nurses coming to check on him, and them trying to get Sehun off the bed before giving up, Luhan eventually fell asleep. Sehun slept through the night with him as well, bundling them together under the blankets. And if Luhan tried hard enough, he could pretend they were together at home, in their bedroom, and nothing bad had happened.

When he woke in the morning to sun creeping along the floor in the hospital room, it was to the soft murmur of a voice. The regular hustle of the hospital was going behind the closed door, but all Luhan could hear was Sehun’s voice.

For just a few more seconds he played as if he wasn’t awake, so he could hear Sehun say, “—we try to be a pretty boring couple of parents, I promise. Stuff like this? It happens rarely, so don’t be worried. God, don’t get paranoid like me. I swear, you’re safe in there. Your baba? He is the strongest, best protector I know. He won’t let anything happen to you. So make sure you stay in there all the way until it’s time for you to be born. Don’t get any bright ideas about coming out early.”

Luhan nearly reacted on impulse alone. He’d gotten pumped full of drugs almost from the moment he’d arrived, by doctors who were afraid that the trauma of the crash might have triggered early labor, after they’d found a fetal heartbeat. While it had become apparent quickly enough that he wasn’t going to go into early labor, it was something that was scary to imagine.

He was only five months along. Maybe he was closer to six months than five, but five was five. If his baby was born now, his chances of survival would be too small to wager on. 

“I’m not saying I don’t love you,” Sehun urged. “Trust me, you’ll never come close to understanding how much I love you. It isn’t measurable. But I want you to stay in there as long as you need. You’re not done growing yet. So how about we make a deal? No more overly exciting things happening on the outside, and you stay in there until the right time. Deal?”

Luhan was seconds away from responding, feeling so fond of Sehun he had to kiss him, when he felt it.

He felt it so soft at first, he almost missed it. But then it happened again, stronger than before, and Luhan knew. He knew what it was.

The baby had moved.

Tears welled up before Luhan could even think about stopping them, and when he blinked his eyes open, tears were spilling out. 

His baby was moving, and as he did, it felt more and more natural. Normal. Right.

“Hey there,” Sehun said, realizing he was awake and craning up to kiss him. “What’s with the tears? Something wrong?”

“I’m just happy,” Luhan promised. He reached out to press down on the sweet spot of his stomach, and right away, the baby kicked back.

“You sure?” Sehun asked, already half out of the bed like he was going to spring for a doctor.

“I swear,” Luhan promised. “Everything is good now.”

Bomi arrived at the hospital a little under an hour after that. By then Luhan had been looked over by a regular doctor, been able to freshen up, and was feeling far more like his regular self than he’d thought possible a day earlier.

“We just want to make sure,” Sehun said to Bomi when she had them in a private examination room and was running the ultrasound wand across Luhan’s stomach. “Because Luhan’s current doctor is out of the country at the moment, and we need to know for sure, from someone we trust, that we have nothing to worry about.”

“Or,” Luhan interrupted, “someone who trusts you.”

Bomi, not thrown off by the words at all, gave a confident nod and said, “Of course. I completely understand. Eunji’s an old friend of mine. We did a residency together at one point. And when she said you two were good friends of hers, and that she needed someone more than just competent to ease your fears, I was happy to come up here. A car accident is a serious thing.”

Luhan said, with a dry mouth, “Yesterday the baby’s heartbeat was a little slow.”

Bomi squinted at the screen, taking her time, obviously thorough as she moved the wand around. 

“The heartrate is back into an area I’d want to see,” she said, offering a supportive grin to them. “And here, look here, this is your baby’s amniotic sack.” She pointed it out on the screen, and waited until they both nodded. “It looks fully intact, with nothing leaking, and I don’t have any concerns about it at all. Now, let’s get a look at that son of yours.”

Sehun was holding his hand tightly when he said, “We’re really excited to get a 3-D ultrasound in a month. We can’t wait to see which of us he looks more like.”

“It certainly will give you a better look,” Bomi agreed. “I can see his nose here, and his fingers, all toes accounted for, and everything in between. But features are a little harder. Still, from a purely medical standpoint, everything looks perfect. Heart looks good, skull looks good, and importantly, his spine. I think you can officially stop worrying, gentlemen.”

“Thank god,” 

Luhan squeeze Sehun’s hand “He’s fine, Sehun. He’s perfect.”

“I don’t see why you need to stick around the hospital,” Bomi said, handing him a cloth to clean the jell off his stomach. “I’ve looked your chart over, Luhan. You’re in good health, and this little guy, he’s perfect. If you want, I can help get you out of here a little faster.”

“Please,” Luhan said, nearly desperate.

“I’m going to advise you to rest at home for the next couple of days,” Bomi cautioned. “Everything looks good now, but we want to be safe and cautious all the same. If you notice any cramping, any bleeding, or if anything doesn’t feel right, don’t wait. Come back to the hospital right away.”

Luhan gave her his promise, and then he was on the fast track to getting out of the hospital.

“I didn’t think about this,” Sehun said when they were standing in front of the first main parking lot nearest the hospital. A day previous Chen had been the one to drive Sehun, and he’d also been the one who parked the car. He’d secured a parking spot very near the front, but now Sehun was reeking of apprehension, and Luhan was looking at the car like it was the enemy.

“It’s irrational,” Luhan said, shifting his weight between his feet. “I didn’t cause the car accident. And the car didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing wrong about cars in general.”

“I’ll drive extra slow,” Sehun promised. “But if we don’t go home in a car, I don’t know how we’re going to get home at all.”

“It’s fine,” Luhan finally decided. If he and the baby were fine, then driving home in a car would be, too.

But by the time they were in the car, Sehun was making no effort to turn it on.

“We can’t get there without actually driving,” Luhan urged gently. “And I want to see Youri. I want to shower and lay down in my own bed.”

“I just …” 

Sehun leaned over to cup the side of Luhan’s face with hand. “I just want to say again, a million times over, how much I love you. Seriously, I’m still so freaked out. I could have lost you. I could have lost everything. And I know it was an accident. I know I need to not dwell on this, but I just want to pull my hair out and scream, and I don’t know how to deal with that.”

Luhan turned to kiss the inside of Sehun’s wrist. “Do you know why I was coming to seeyou at your office?”

Sehun shook his head, though he looked like he at least suspected. 

“We haven’t been communicating,” Luhan said. “We haven’t been talking to each other like we should. And this? This just served as a reminder of how easily we could lose it all. So we can’t keep going on like we’ve been before. It’s time to start talking to each other. I want to do that today.”

Sehun gripped the steering wheel tightly, then admitted, “Something happened at work. Something I didn’t tell you.”

“But you’re willing to tell me now?”

Sehun gave a somber nod.

Luhan laced his fingers across his stomach then and said, “So let’s go home and talk.”


	8. Chapter Eight: Sehun

It was a little over twelve hours since Sehun had gotten the call from the hospital, and he still felt like his heart was stuttering out.Twelve hours later and Sehun still felt dizzy and faint, and as if the word was going to come screeching to a stop at any possible moment.

And if it did, it was going to be utterly and completely his own fault.

Because the only reason Luhan had been driving the car, and been involved in his accident, was because Sehun had been putting space deliberately between them. Sehun had been shutting Luhan out, ashamed of the mess he’d gotten himself into, scared to tell the truth, and unsure of how to proceed. He’d put Luhan in that situation, and risked their baby. It was his fault.

And Sehun hadn’t even been at the office that Luhan was going to. Sehun had been cowardly hiding out with Chen, eating frozen yoghurt, and pretending like he didn’t have to be an adult and face his problems. 

If he’d been honest with Luhan, or even just told him that not only Chen was in town, but that Sehun was going to see him, nothing would have happened.

And so he was reminded, if anything had happened to Luhan or their son, Sehun would have been the one to blame.

He would have gotten a second family killed.

“No,” he whispered fiercely to himself, “don’t you dare do that to yourself again.”

It had taken him years, literally years, to own up to the truth that Jae’s death, and the loss of Seoyoung, had not been his fault. His fight with Jae on that morning, which had cause Jae to walk down to the store by himself, had nothing to do with where the fault laid. And it wasn’t right or fair to pin that kind of thing on himself

Years and years of therapy had convinced him that things just happened randomly, chaotically, and without having someone to blame, all the time. And there was no use to overthinking it, or wishing things were different. Because for as much as Sehun still loved Jae and missed him, if anything had changed about the situation, Sehun wouldn’t have Luhan, or Youri, or their incoming baby boy.

“Do not,” he repeated firmly, “do this to yourself.” He owed it to himself not to walk that path, and even more, he owed it to Luhan. 

Luhan, who was now currently sleeping. 

They’d gone right home after the hospital, with the coming reality of the situation weighing on Sehun’s mind.Talk, Luhan had said, they needed to talk. And it wasn’t a lie. They had to start talking to each other, no matter how ashamed Sehun was, and no matter the friction it might cause.

The better choice in general, was just to talk. And Sehun had every intention of it.

But then Luhan had laid down in their bed to rest for a couple of minutes, and then he’d been out like a light. He hadn’t even gotten that shower he’d wanted. And Sehun was inclined to let him sleep now. 

So Luhan was sleeping, and Sehun was creepily watching him from the doorway. 

Their baby was okay, he told himself again and again, and Luhan was okay. They were a little roughed up, and possibly scarred for life, but they were okay.

They could have so easily not been.

Sehun let his head thunk against the doorframe.

Luhan shifted in the bed and Sehun withdrew immediately. Luhan found it difficult to sleep now, and when he did, to sleep well. And Sehun wasn’t going to rob him of the precious sleep he was finding now. So instead Sehun left the room, trekking down the stairs as quietly as possible, rubbing his fingers wearily at his temple.

He shuffled into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, and sat gingerly at the bar.

He needed to decide what he was going to say to Luhan. He needed to figure out how he was going to phrase everything, and how he could save the situation.

The sound of the front door opening caught his ears and he craned backwards on the bar stool. The kitchen was angled just so that if he leaned far enough, he could see down the hallway to the foyer. 

He half expected to see Youri careening down the hallway, on a one-woman mission to get to him. Sehun had spoken to her that morning, assuring her that everything was fine, and that he and Luhan were going to see her very shortly. She was just old enough to detect that there was something wrong in his voice, but she hadn’t pressed the issue. Instead she’d told him all about what she and Xiumin and Wei had been doing, which included cooking, finger painting, and Youri dressing up in Xiumin’s scrubs to play veterinarian. 

On the phone, Xiumin had been unhappy with Sehun’s request to keep his distance for the time being. He’d said almost angrily, “Luhan is my best friend, and he was in an accident. I’ll be damned if I’m no there to loom over him in an overbearing way.” There was fear in Xiumin’s voice then, like he needed to verify for himself that Luhan was okay.

But Sehun had nearly pleaded, “Just let me have some space with Luhan, okay, Xiumin? Please? I could have lost Luhan and the baby, and we’re both shaken up. Give us some time to calm down. Please keep Youri until the afternoon, and keep her distracted. You and Wei can come over for dinner tonight. But let us be for right now.”

It was a selfish thing, he knew, to try and keep Luhan from Xiumin. Luhan and Xiumin had been friends long before Sehun had even come into the picture. But they did need space at the moment, and not just because they needed to talk.

But it wasn’t Youri that was standing in the foyer now. It wasn’t anyone expected at all.

Suho gave Sehun a troubled look, one laced with concern, and said softly, like he knew Luhan was sleeping, “Xiumin called me.”

Suho. It was Suho. Suho who was supposed to be spending time with his parents right now, going to Jae’s grave, and not standing in Sehun’s foyer.

But god was Sehun so thankful.

He practically toppled off the barstool in an effort to get to his feet, and then he was running down the hallway, desperate to hug Suho who represented security, and comfort, and protection. 

Suho had always felt like he was Sehun’s big brother in a lot of ways, and never more than now. 

“Are you okay?” Suho asked, hugging him tightly.

“No,” Sehun admitted in a low way. He was far from okay.

“I thought so. Xiumin said Luhan’s okay,” Suho said. “But I know you, Sehun. I know you too well.”

Sehun was maybe clinging to Suho too tightly, but Suho’s embrace made him feel like he wasn’t going to fall to pieces. 

In a shaken way, Sehun confirmed, “Luhan and the baby are going to be okay. The doctor said. Luhan’s sleeping right now—resting, but Suho … Suho I can’t …”

“Let’s go put some coffee on,” Suho said, angling Sehun towards the kitchen. Then he turned to say over his shoulder, “Emily, can you grab our bag?”

Emily?

Mortified at his behavior, and the tears in his eyes, Sehun looked towards the front door that he now realized was open. He’d been so focused on Suho he hadn’t even realized it, but here, standing plain as day, was a young woman. She was the girl from the photographs, the American girl who’d caught Suho’s eye and stolen his heart. When Luhan and Sehun had gone to visit Suho in New York, she’d been out of the state, visiting her parents in California.

And now this was the first time they were meeting, and Sehun looked an absolute mess.

“I’ve got it,” she promised, ducking out of house. She’d spoken in Korean, though in a shaky way. All the same, it was impressive. Suho had said she’d started taking classes in Korean right around the time their relationship had gotten serious. That, more than anything, told Sehun that the two of them were probably going to get married. They probably already should have been.

“Your brought her?” Sehun asked, wide eyed. “I mean, no offense, I’ve wanted to meet her for a long time, but this is a shitty time for it.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Suho said, taking him down to the kitchen. He deposited Sehun at the kitchen table and moved right to the coffee machine. “You guys are always complaining that she seems more imaginary than not. And this get together is supposed to be important, right. So I thought, let me bring her. Let me bring Emily so everyone can meet.” Suho sighed. “It was a last-minute thing, Sehun. I’m sorry.”

Sehun scrubbed fingers across his forehead. “No, I’m sorry, Suho. I don’t mean to sound like a prick. I’m happy to meet her, finally. She’s even prettier in person, than I thought.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on her,” Suho warned, but he looked all too pleased at the compliment. “Her favorite part of herself is her brain.”

All he same, Sehun did think she was exceptionally pretty, with her brown hair cut into a fashionable bob, and her bright green eyes as contrast. But, Sehun reminded himself, Suho was right. She’d never appeared the kind of girl that put too much stock into what she looked like. She didn’t wear makeup or dress in designer clothes. Suho had said that she was a graduate of the NYC doctoral program, and had been fast-tracked from the start. Apparently, she was very smart, and that was a good, good thing. Looks had never mattered to Suho, either. He was far too interested in people that challenged him intellectually. Maybe that was why they seemed a good fit. 

“Luhan’s doctor said he’s okay?” Suho asked again, looking for just as much certainty as Sehun desperately wanted. “He got a full checkup?”

Sehun nodded. “He’s got to rest for a while. But he’ll be okay. Me? If my heart could just slow down so I don’t have a stroke, that would be amazing.”

Emily appeared in the kitchen just as the coffee began to drizzle out of the machine. She had a phone in hand and said in understandable Korean, “I’m going to check some emails and make a few calls. I don’t want to interrupt you two.”

“You’re not,” Sehun said back slowly, ashamed of his manners. He hopped up from his seat and reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Oh Sehun. It’s a pleasure to meet you, finally.”

She gave him a full, happy grin in return. “Emily Pearson. Suho talks about you a lot, his troublesome little brother.”

“You should stay,” Sehun said, pointing at the coffee. “I have coffee.”

“I really do need to catch up on work.” She shook her phone a little.

Sehun insisted, “Let me set you up in my office.”

By the time the coffee was finished brewing, Sehun had Emily situated in his office, and she was busily focused on the computer screen, already having a conference call with someone.

“Thank you,” Suho said when Sehun set coffee mugs in front of them. 

“For what?”

Suho sighed, “For being nice to her. For treating her right.”

Sehun frowned. “Why wouldn’t I? She makes you happy, right? That’s all I care about.”

Suho gave a pleased nod. “Thank all the same.”

Sehun dumped creamer in his coffee and truly hoped that Suho knew how happy Sehun was for him.

Suho seemed to wait some time before saying, “Xiumin didn’t just tell me that Luhan had been in a car accident. He also said that the reason Luhan was going to talk to you, last night, was because he thinks the two of you are having a breakdown in communication.”

Pursing his lips, Sehun didn’t respond. Even if they were, the last thing he wanted was Xiumin spreading their business about. 

“You want to tell me why?”

Sehun returned angrily, “Are you my therapist suddenly?”

“No,” Suho said with a causal shrug, “but if you’re falling back into old habits, then you’re probably not talking to your therapist about all the things that are bothering you, or on your mind. Remember, Sehun, therapy only works as long as you’re open and honest. Otherwise you’re just wasting your time and money.”

“I know,” Sehun said begrudgingly. 

“You’ve been stressed out,” Suho said knowingly. “I can see it all over your face. And I’m just going to take a stab in the dark here, and say that you’ve been cooping all that stress up inside of you, scared to let Luhan shoulder any of it for you.”

“Why should he?” Sehun asked back. “He’s got enough to deal with right now. Youri’s pregnancy gave him gestational diabetes, and he got lucky with that this time, but this baby is wearing him out. He’s sick all the time, and more tired than I’ve ever seen him. That’s on top of having to keep the household running, and taking care of Youri. He has do to all that, and I help where I can, but I’m gone most of the day. So tell me how I can put more on a person who has to do all that already?”

Suho reached over to flick at Sehun’s ear. 

“Ow!” Sehun complained sharply. “That hurt!”

“Communicating with your partner,” Suho said, eyes narrowing, “is not the same as dumping all of your worries and problems on them. Also, Luhan deserves better than secrecy. Do you, or do you not agree?”

Sehun looked down at the brown murkiness of his coffee. “I just don’t want to stress him out.”

“You don’t think all of this unfolding isn’t stressing him out?”

Suho flicked him again.

“I know!” Sehun said sharply. Then he thought of Luhan sleeping upstairs, and quieted his voice. “I know,” he repeated in a softer way. “Trust me, I know. And Luhan and I already agreed, we have to talk. I’m going to tell him everything.”

“Everything?”

Sehun clarified, “About why I’m so worried and stressed out, and what’s going on at work.”

Suho frowned. “I thought you loved you job?”

“I do,” Sehun said right away. Then he stopped to consider, “I thought I did.”

“Okay,” Suho decided, settling in. “Tell me what’s going on. Consider it practice for when you have to grab your manhood and come clean to your husband.”

“No offense,” Sehun said, a wince on his face, “but talking to you isn’t quite like talking to Luhan.”

“No,” Suho allowed. “But I’ll be able to refine anything stupid you say, so it’ll sound better when you do talk to Luhan.”

Sehun gave Suho a long look, then decided, “You were a lot nicer before you moved to America. Emily seems really nice, but I’m not sure if she’s just an exception to Americans.”

Suho reached out to flick Sehun for a third time, but Sehun was practically expecting it, and he was able to dodge to the side.

“Don’t be rude,” Suho said. “Now tell me what’s wrong with your job, and how that’s obviously hurting your marriage.”

Talking to Suho was therapeutic. It was more than that, actually, but mostly it built confidence in Sehun. It gave him the feeling that he could rise above his fears and anxieties, because he had someone to fall back on that he knew could take the pressure. And there was never a hint of judgement from Suho on the matter.There was only support, and kindness, and the feeling that Sehun would be ready for his talk with Luhan. 

Their coffee mugs were long empty by the time Emily reappeared in the kitchen. 

“Everything okay at work?” Suho asked. 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” she assured.

Suho swung back to Sehun and said, “We took a cab straight here from the airport. My parents weren’t thrilled, but they understood. Still, if we don’t go meet them for lunch in a couple of hours, you know that they’re going to storm this house, and that’s the last thing you need.”

Sehun went a little white. The last time Suho’s parents had come over, it had been just for an early evening meal. But they’d gotten distracted by Youri, and then Suho’s mother had started giving Luhan tips on organizing, and then Suho’s father had wanted to help with unnecessary renovations, and it had just turned into a mess. Sehun really appreciated Suho’s parents, and he was glad he was close with them again, but they could overstay their welcome too easily. 

“Come over for dinner tomorrow?” Sehun asked, shaking Emily’s hand once more. He looked from her to Suho. “Luhan and I already planned to have a private, personal dinner with our closest friends and family. You two should be there.”

Suho gave a nod as Emily said, “Of course we will, if you all promise to speak a little slow for me.”

Sehun shook his head and promised her, “Your Korean is great—way better than my English, so don’t worry about it.”

As they left, Sehun watched the way Suho’s fingers slipped into hers so easily. It was remarkable, really, because Suho could be selective which who he chose to be affectionate with. But to Emily, Suho seemed unconcerned with who saw what, and it was a very, very good sign to their relationship. Sehun followed them to the door, watching Suho bring their carryon bag with them, and was glad for the moment.

That afternoon brought nothing but chaos, however, and no chance for Sehun to speak to Luhan. Suho left before the lunch hour, but Luhan had slept right through. Sehun had been able to busy himself with house work, but then the doorbell had started ringing and their house had been invaded. 

Xiumin brought Youri and Wei back just in time for lunch, and a worried Kai followed. 

“Now is not the time,” Sehun said in an irritated way, practically able to hear Youri bouncing on the bed that Luhan hadn’t left since returning home. She had come back to them with far too much energy, and was determined to tell Luhan every little thing. Xiumin was in the bedroom with Luhan trying to funnel some of that energy away, and Wei was in his own bedroom, but already it felt like the house had too many people in it.

But how could he turn Kai away, fairly, when Tao came fifteen minutes after him, practically vibrating in a need to see Luhan.

When Chen rang the front door, and asked with an arched eyebrow, “I take it this is a bad time?” Sehun practically gave up. 

“Stop making that sour face,” Luhan said with a cheery grin when he’d felt strong enough to move down stairs to the roomier living area. Youri was still practically glued to his side, and Sehun had long ago stopped trying to pry her away.

“I’m not sour,” he returned, returning a smile, but nothing about it was real. He loved their friends, friends who were practically family, but he wanted Luhan to himself still. He wanted to be the focus of Luhan’s attention, and he wanted to just enjoy his company privately, for a while.

There was weariness in Luhan’s eyes, but he laughed all the same and said, “You absolutely are.”

It was definitely an annoyance to have a good number of their friends over, even if they were well meaning. However, in the end, Sehun tried to stem the feeling. Their friends were what kept them going at times, and surely they should be able to spare time for the people they loved the most. 

And eventually, mercifully, everyone did begin to clear out. Hours after the bulk of them had arrived, Luhan was dozing lightly on the sofa, Youri was busy coloring in a work book, and Wei was offering to go out and get dinner. 

“Actually,” Sehun said, giving him a grateful look, “I was hoping you could take Youri out for dinner. It would absolutely be on me, and you can take the car. But Luhan and I kind of need to talk about some important things, and it’ll be better if she isn’t here for it.”

“You’re not fighting, are you?” Wei asked suspiciously. 

“No,” Sehun said right away. “We’re definitely not fighting. We’re just … we need to talk. We need to fix some issue. We need time and space to do that, actually, so that’s why I’m asking. If you can’t, I can always call my friend Chen, or even Suho. They’re both exceptionally good at spoiling Youri.”

Wei put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not saying I won’t do it, I just want to make sure you know that Luhan isn’t in a state to get worked up.”

“I’m not going to work my own husband up,” Sehun said with an edge.

Wei’s arms crossed over his chest. “Just keep that in mind, okay? Luhan’s not some delicate rosebud, but getting his blood pressure up? That’s good for no one.”

Sehun certainly didn’t need Wei to tell him how to talk to his husband. He didn’t need a lecture on anything of the sort relating to Luhan. But the last thing Sehun wanted to do was start trouble with Wei over Luhan. In the end, if battle lines were drawn, Sehun trusted Luhan to pick him. But there was something dirty about there even needing to be a choice to begin with. 

Sehun asked a bit curtly, “So you’ll take Youri tonight? There’s an Italian restaurant that she really likes. Luhan and I are working really hard to get her to use only utensils now, but if she wants to use her fingers with the spaghetti, that’s okay, too.” He reached into his pocket and handed a credit card over. “And thank you.”

Wei slid the credit card into his pocket and said, “No problem.” He gave a visible hesitation, then added, “I can tell, you know, that you think I’m overstepping, or telling you something you already know, or just being irritating.”

Sehun startled with embarrassment. “Wei … I …”

“That’s okay,” Wei said, holding up a cautionary hand. “That’s fine, in fact. At the end of the day, I’m still just the guy who helped steal your husband, and almost made him mine.”

Sehun felt stunned.

“But,” Wei pressed on, “Luhan is my oldest friend. He’s really my best friend. But most importantly, he’s the only person who saw me, when even I couldn’t see myself. If it wasn’t for Luhan, I don’t know where I’d be. I don’t know who I’d be. I’d probably still hate myself. I think I still do a little.”

“Wei,” Sehun tried again, because now guilt was creeping into his every pore, and it felt so, so wrong that he was the one at fault for it.

Wei gave a small shrug. “I guess what I’m trying to say here, in too many words, is that I love Luhan. I don’t love him like you do, but I love him in my own way. So when he hurts, I hurt. And I look at the two of you, and I see the most amazing thing in the world. I see Luhan so happy, and so in love, and I don’t want that to break down. I know it sounds comical, but I feel like I have a personal stake in your relationship, and how you directly affect Luhan. So just be careful. Pick your words carefully. Look at how much Luhan loves you, and don’t ever lose that.”

As Wei turned away to collect Youri, Sehun was left stunned, standing numb.

It wasn’t long after Youri and Wei had left for dinner, Luhan still dozing, when Sehun’s phone lit up with Chanyeol’s number.

He nearly didn’t pick up the phone. But he was deathly afraid that Chanyeol was calling about something related to work. He hadn’t been in two days now, and he hadn’t even talked to Chanyeol directly to tell him something had happened to Luhan. He was certain that Chanyeol had heard from Chen, but Sehun was also a little embarrassed he hadn’t made an important phone call to him yet.

“Yes?” he asked, slipping into his office and closing the door behind him.

Chanyeol wasted no time asking, “Is Luhan okay? Is the baby okay?”

“They’re both fine.” Sehun ambled his way over to his desk and sunk into the chair. “How’s it going at work? Am I … has anyone said anything about my absence at work?”

He could hear Chanyeol sigh, before he said, “You bet you were missed. I covered for you, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you.”

Chanyeol continued on, “No one is going to call you up asking where you were, today. But that’s only today, Sehun. You have to come in, tomorrow. You have to show your face and show the boss that you’re ready to go on Saturday.”

Saturday.

The day he and Chanyeol were expected to fly out of Seoul for Hong Kong. Also the day of the party. 

Dryly, and with obvious apprehension, Chanyeol wondered, “Have you told Luhan, yet?”

“I will,” Sehun said. “Today.” He had no other choice.

Chanyeol whistled out, “He’s going to be so mad.”

Propping an elbow up on the desk, Sehun asked, “What if I take emergency family leave? You know I’ve got a million hours of it built up.” He forced himself to keep calm. “Chanyeol, I can’t leave right now. I can’t leave Luhan right now.”

“Let me put it like this,” Chanyeol told him. “If you don’t show up to work tomorrow, and if you try to get out of the trip on Saturday, I get the feeling that you won’t have to worry about when to use your emergency family leave hours.”

To that, Sehun had no response.

Chanyeol said, “This is a shitty situation. I know. And I don’t know how to help you right now. I just … Sehun, what are you going to do? Can I get a heads up, so I know how Saturday is going to go down?”

Wryly, Sehun admitted, “Chanyeol, even I don’t know how this is going to play out.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol said softly.

Resolved, Sehun said, “I have to talk to Luhan, Chanyeol. I’m doing that tonight. I’ll be there tomorrow, I promise, and I’ll let you know then.”

“Good luck,” Chanyeol said, and then the call was over.

There was certainly no going back now. 

A soft knock on the door jarred Sehun.

The door itself was mostly glass, with only a wooden outline, and through it Sehun could see Luhan standing there, looking at him with worry.

“You okay?” Sehun asked a little breathlessly as he dashed to the door and opened it. “Let’s go sit down, okay?”

Luhan laughed, “Sehun, the doctor said I was fine, remember? And the nausea isn’t so bad today. So let me stand if I want to stand.”

Face heating a little, Sehun nodded.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,” Luhan said, taking Sehun’s fingers in his own. He tugged them away from the office and back towards the living room. “I’ll never be able to get to sleep tonight.”

“That’s not true,” Sehun teased, sliding around Luhan to sneak an arm around his waist. “I know you’re super uncomfortable all the time now, but when you do drop off, you can do it anywhere. And if you needed the rest, then you needed it. Plus, you look super cute when you’re sleeping. You also tend to be the least annoyed at me, during that time.”

That was totally the right thing to say by the way Luhan laughed, and then turned his head for a proper kiss. 

They got settled on the sofa, with Luhan tucking a blanket over his legs, and that was when Sehun realized the talk was about to happen. 

Luhan joked, “You don’t have to look like I’m going to reach across and strangle you, Sehun.”

He tried to force a reassuring smile on his face, but had a sinking suspicion he’d utterly failed.

Luhan, obviously trying to break the ice, reminded, “Didn’t we have a talk only a few days ago?” He shook his head and sighed. “It feels like so much longer than that. Anyway, we had a talk just a few days ago, Sehun. We talked about you not putting all the pressure on yourself, and not pushing yourself beyond your limits.”

Frayed with nerves, Sehun felt barely confident enough to say, “I scored that deal at work. Chanyeol and I finally presented something the client liked.”

Luhan perked immediately, and congratulated, “I’m so happy for you. You were working so hard on that for so long. I know you thought you’d never get it done, or that you’d never make that client happy, but I believed in you. You never give yourself enough credit.”

Luhan’s praise was like salt in a wound to Sehun. He balled his hands into fists and nearly hunched over himself, feeling like he might actually be ill. 

It didn’t take long for Luhan to catch on that something was wrong, and then he was frowning and asking, “Sehun? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I feel like a jackass,” Sehun said. “I feel like such an idiot and I can’t believe … I’m so ashamed of myself.”

“Hey.” The sharpness to Luhan’s voice caught Sehun. “How many times to do I have to say it?”

Sehun looked to him with uncertainty. 

Luhan looked to vibrant, so alive, and so utterly beautiful. To Sehun, Luhan had always looked like a masterpiece, but he did so even more now. Not even the stern look on his face could detract from his beauty.

Luhan told him in an uncompromising way, “You do not get to talk about the man I love like that. You don’t get to talk about my husband, and the father to my children, in that kind of way.”

Against all odds, the smallest of grins snuck its way on Sehun’s face, and he said emphatically, “You’re too good to me.”

Luhan replied, “You’re not good enough to yourself.”

It took a few more moments before Sehun felt strong enough to say, “I spent so much time working on that project, Luhan. I spent months of preplanning, and then months more of trying to win the client over. I took that promotion on the basis that I could score the client, and that I was worth the investment. I pushed and pushed and pushed myself, and then I pushed this family.”

“Sehun,” Luhan said quietly. 

Sehun continued, “I had to sacrifice a lot, and I had to ask you to. I didn’t get to spend as much time with you and Youri as I wanted. I couldn’t always be there for dinner, or bath time, or anything else. And you? All that fell on your shoulders. That’s too much to ask of someone who isn’t feeling well, and I had to ask it all the same.”

Luhan leaned over and pinched Sehun in the arm. “It’s not like you were manhandling me into the past few months. Sehun, I know we didn’t predict your job getting crazy like this when we decided to have another baby, but I also know your work is important to you. You’re ambitious and driven, and that’s something that I really love about you. So this? We can deal with this. We can get through a little bit longer, and then we’ll look back on this in a couple of months when we’re busy smothering our new baby with love, and laugh.”

Sehun grit his teeth. “I didn’t just hold all this back because I didn’t want to worry you. I held it back because you haven’t heard the worth of it.”

Luhan sat back. “The worst of it?”

Now came the deal breaker. Now came the worst of it.

“The client is on board,” Sehun said. “But only if I’m hands-on with the project.”

Luhan shrugged. “What’s that mean?”

Sehun heaved in a deep breath. “The client is in Hong Kong, Luhan. So for the next six months, the client expects me to spend probably more time there, than here. And I’m supposed to fly out on Saturday.”

He could see the way the words were sinking into Luhan’s mind, and he realizations that were beginning to set in.

“But the party is on Saturday,” Luhan said hoarsely. 

“I know.” 

This was what Sehun had feared more than anything else, the wounded look that was gracing Luhan’s features.

“Sehun,” Luhan said in almost a breathless way, “I’ve been planning for well over a year now. It took so much to get everyone together in the same place. I had to work, and then rework my plans. I had to change the date three separate times. We rented everything out. We ordered all the food. Sehun …”

“I know,” Sehun said, this time much more sharply, and he regretted his tone right away.“I apologize,” he hurried to say “I’m sorry, Luhan. I know this ruins everything. I know what you put into this, on top of keeping our family running, on top of taking care of Youri, on top of everything.”

Luhan looked horrified at the idea of his plans being spoiled. “We had to coordinate ten people,” Luhan reminded, “our ten closest friends, and then their wives and children and Wei and … there’s over twenty people coming to this thing.”

“And if I could do anything, I mean anything to get out of this, I swear I would.”

Quietly, Luhan said, “You’re supposed to stand up there with me, Sehun, and talk about how much these people mean to us, and how we wouldn’t be where we are today, if it weren’t for them.”

Bluntly, Sehun told him, “It’s nonnegotiable. I either go, starting Saturday, for the next six months to get this project off the ground, or I get another job.”

Luhan moved to speak, and then froze. His forehead ceased, and then he asked, one hand braced against his stomach, “The next six months? Sehun, I’m due in four.”

“I know that too,” Sehun replied, his own eyes on Luhan’s stomach. “Do you get it now? Right or wrong, do you see why I was so ashamed to have to tell you that I got what I wanted so badly in the end, but at a terrible cost.”

Luhan seemed to sink into the sofa, practically disappearing into his blankets.

Sehun told him, “The way I understand it, I’ll need to fly out every couple of weeks and spend the weekend there, in Hong Kong. Maybe … maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll happen that I’m here for when you go into labor, but there’s a chance …”

Now, for the first time, Luhan looked shaken. “Sehun, I don’t want to do this without you.”

“I have been trying to find something, anything, that can help me get out of this. I’ve been brainstorming,” Sehun rushed out, “and desperately trying to bargain, but it’s me or nothing with the client.”

In an awed way, one that sounded like Luhan was drifting in his own thoughts, he said, “You won’t just miss the party, or the birth of our son. You’re going to leave me alone with a newborn and a three-year-old. Maybe you’ll be home for some of it, but you’re going to miss the worst of it, and I don’t know if I can handle it all on my own.”

Weakly, Sehun said, “My mom and sisters will help. So will Baekhyun. You know—”

“That’s not fair!”

Luhan’s shout started Sehun into silence.

With less volume, but still just as much anger, Luhan said, “That’s not fair to me, or to our friends, or to our family, so don’t you dare say that. You helped make this baby, Sehun. You need to be here for all the important things that come after. You can’t do this.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Sehun asked honestly. “Tenure my resignation, cost the company about a billion yen, and get myself blacklisted because of it? Am I supposed to put this family into a shaky financial situation? Tell me, Luhan. Tell me something, because I don’t know what to do, and I’ve tried so hard to fix this. I just … I don’t know what to do.”

Shaking his head slowly, Luhan said, “You can’t miss the birth of this baby, Sehun. You can’t miss our son’s birth, and the moments that come right after.”

“I can’t not go.”

There was most certainly a shift in the room. The atmosphere had chilled significantly, and now Luhan was angled away in thought, worry and hurt on his face, and Sehun felt like such a villain. 

Then came the first sniffle, the first hint that tears were on the way, and Sehun almost burst into them himself, the moment he saw Luhan’s eyes water.

“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, voice going thin. “Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t help himself then and launched himself to the other side of the sofa to wrap Luhan up in a strong hug. He though Luhan might try to push him away, or hit him, or something. But instead Luhan clung tightly to him and cried quietly. 

“If you want me to quit, I’ll quit,” Sehun said, feeling at wit’s end. “Suho has lots of business contacts here in Seoul. If I beg him, I can probably use his connections to get hired somewhere else. Luhan, I will quit, if that’s what this family needs for me to do. I’ll do whatever you want. I love you. Just please stop crying.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Luhan said morosely. “And you can’t quit your job. You love it.”

Firmly, Sehun said, “Not as much as I love you.”

And that was the truth. More than anything else, unequivocally, Luhan was Sehun’s priority. There was no sacrifice too great to make for him, and if Luhan wanted him to quit, and get a job crunching numbers, to make sure that their family could even stay in the same country, then that was what Sehun was prepared to do.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Luhan said, palming at his eyes. “It’s the damn hormones. I’m sorry.”

Sehun held him close and stroked his fingers against the expanse of Luhan’s belly, feeling the flutter of movement from their son. 

“I really fucked up,” Sehun said softly. 

“I’m really mad at you,” Luhan ground out.

“You should be.”

“But I still love you.”

Sehun knew Luhan too well, to expect anything else.

Palm going flat on Luhan’s stomach, more to anchor himself than anything else, Sehun promised, “You only have to say the word. I mean it. Chen’s the one who reminded me about Suho’s business contacts. I bet I could have a new job by the end of the week. If we can’t do this, if it isn’t worth it in the end, then I’ll call Suho tonight.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Luhan took Sehun’s face in his hands, and then kissed his mouth gently. “Despite your boss, I know this is your dream job. I know if you were doing data entry in a small cubicle anywhere else, you’d be unhappy, and I can’t support that.”

“Then what do we do?”

Luhan kissed him once more, and there was a lingering feeling of loneliness on his lips. Maybe Sehun was just imagining it. 

“You have to be here for the birth,” Luhan said with finality. “Everything else pales. But the birth? You have to be the first one who holds our son. you have to be there when I go into surgery. You swear that to me, that you’ll be there, and put it on everything you are, and we’ll …we’ll figure everything else out.”

“Are you sure?” Sehun asked slowly. This felt like asking too much. He knew this was asking too much. And Luhan shouldn’t have been willing to agree to any of it. “Luhan, I swear it’s okay, I can quit. I can fix this with Suho’s help. I can.”

“You can make me one single promise,” Luhan said in rebuttal. “You can make the only promise I need from you, and one that you understand you can’t break no matter what. And if you can do that, if you’re capable of that, then we can endure.”

With more pressure than he’d dared before, Sehun cradled Luhan’s stomach. “I swear to you,” he said, “I won’t miss the birth of our son. I will be there. I will be the first person to hold him, and the only one who hands him to you when it’s your turn. No matter what, I’ll be there.”

Luhan gave a silent nod, and leaned against Sehun.

“I swear,” Sehun said, for good measure.

“Then I guess there’s only one thing to do,” Luhan said, sounding weary.

“What’s that?”

Luhan’s head turned and he kissed the curve of Sehun’s jaw. “I need to help you pack. You’re pretty useless without me.”

Sehun turned Luhan’s head properly to kiss him, and remarked with every fiber of his being, “I don’t deserve someone like you, Luhan.”

And in that moment, Sehun was certain he’d always feel that way.

Undeserving.


	9. Chapter Nine: Luhan

With a shudder of exhaustion Luhan pressed his forehead against the cool metal of the bathroom door stall and took a long, deep breath. Eyes clenched closed, he reached out to pull the handle of the toilet in front of him, the flush that followed sounding more like a hurricane at his height and perspective, than anything else. 

He hated this. 

Nearly six months in, and he still hated it.

“Here you go.” 

Luhan heard the sound of his bathroom stall opening, and then Kris was crouching in front of him, holding out a water bottle. “Swish and spit, please.”

Tremendously uncomfortable, Luhan snapped, “I’m not a child.”

Kris pursed his lips and said, “No, you’re an adult, that’s for sure.” He poked Luhan’s stomach for good measure. “But you also just spent fifteen minutes vomiting up your breakfast, you now look as pale as a ghost, and if there’s any hope of you saving today and not being sent home like a naughty school boy, I suggest you take the bottle of water and—”

Weakly, Luhan asked, “Swish and spit?”

“Exactly.” Kris winked at him. “Also, once you do that we can do something about you being on the floor of a bathroom stall. I keep my place clean, but all the same, let’s not risk the germs that might be down there.”

Luhan gave a slow nod. When the first bout of sickness and nausea had hit him, he’d thought it was the normal kind. He spent most of his days now feeling ill, and a couple of minutes dry heaving in the bathroom wasn’t out of the normal. But that prediction had gone out the window the second he’d started bringing up real food. 

Of all the days to have a bad day.

“You feeling okay?” Kris asked, pressing the back of his hand to Luhan’s forehead. “And don’t give me that fine, crap. You don’t look fine.”

“I am,” Luhan insisted, rising out the taste of vomit in his mouth. “It’s just a bad day.”

“We didn’t have to do this today, you know,” Kris pointed out. “We’re all going to be there tomorrow for your big party.”

“I know,” Luhan said slowly and with a frown. “But today is different.”

Tomorrow, tomorrow Luhan would face the reality of the situation at hand, where Sehun would probably be spending far more time away from him than with him. he’d have to stand in front of all their friends and explain his absence away. And yes, there’d be joy in having everyone together all at once, it was something Lohan had so desperately been looking forward to for so long. But today was much, much different.

“I just wanted a piece of the past,” Luhan said.

Kris gave him a kind smile then. “Well, no one can blame you for that.”

Luhan didn’t think he was asking too much. He just wanted his core friends, the people who had meant the most to him before Sehun had even been in his life, to meet up with him in their old hangout, so they could pretend—if only for a couple of hours, like life wasn’t completely different for all of them.

“Tell me when you’re ready to get up,” Kris said.

Luhan gave him a wry smile. “I feel pretty bad about this, actually. You and Xiumin ran everyone out of here the second you realized what was going on. I’m sure plenty of people need to use the restroom.”

Kris chided, “Think of yourself for a second.” Then he stood and left the bathroom stall to bang on the door to the coffee shop.

Xiumin’s head popped in, his gaze settling on Luhan firmly, and he asked, “You okay?”

Luhan admitted, “I think the worst of it is over now.”

Arms crossed over his chest, Kris asked, “There a line building up out there?”

Xiumin snorted in almost a pretentious way. “I told them to get lost five minutes ago.”

Luhan smothered down a laugh. Most of the time he disapproved of how heavy-handed Xiumin could be. But other times, he really enjoyed it. Secretly, of course.

“Ready?” Kris held a hand out to him.

Luhan let Kris do most of the work, concentrating on keeping his balance as he got to his feet, and not the effort it now took to do so. 

“Is everyone freaking out?” Luhan asked, moving carefully to the sink to was his hands.

Xiumin slipped fully into the room and leaned back against the door. “Nah, we know you’ve got a flare for the dramatic—have known for a while, actually.”

“Funny,” Luhan said blandly. “I mean it. I don’t want to ruin this.”

Kris scoffed, looking at him through the mirror. “What’s there to ruin. We’re just a bunch of friends getting together at our favorite coffee shop, to hang out and talk. Plus, this can’t be the first time you’ve ended up hugging a toilet in a public bathroom. Contrary to that squeaky clean façade you like to let people see, Luhan, I’ve heard some wild stories of your first couple years here in South Korea.”

Luhan’s gaze shot to Xiumin. “You filthy traitor.”

Xiumin beamed at Luhan, and told Kris, “Our darling little Luhan could drink me under the table those first few years, and he was such an instigator.”

“I believe it,” Kris said in a solemn way.

“You are both dead to me,” Luhan warned, but he was feeling so, so much better. He feet were more solid under him, his stomach was empty and no longer churning, and there was the steady movement of the baby to comfort him. “But if you’re both don’t slandering my good name, I’m ready to get back out there.”

Carelessly, Xiumin asked, “Kris, is it slander if it’s true?”

Kris held open the door for Luhan and Xiumin. “There’s some gray area there, but we can talk about it some more if you want.”

“Dead to me,” Luhan repeated, and took confident steps back out into the coffee shop.

Almost immediately he spotted the series of tables that he and the others had dragged together across the room. They’d put themselves at the big bay window in the corner, and it was where Tao and Lay currently were, talking about something that had put smiles on both their faces. 

It was like stepping into the past, for just a moment. Not much had changed about the café in a little over three years. The furniture was still eclectic and sort of mismatched, the baristas still knew most orders of regular customers by heart, and some of Luhan’s artwork still hung on the wall. 

Maybe the café was part of a chain now, and there were cute little cakes and treats being sold, but all in all, it was still the place that Luhan had practically grown up in.

It was where he’d lived, at least in the apartment above, when he was pregnant with Youri, and in the months that followed afterwards when he’d still been learning how to parent. That apartment was filled now, but Luhan remembered climbing the stairs to get up there, and waking up every morning to the smell of fresh coffee.

“Luhan?” Xiumin asked, touching an elbow. 

“Let’s go,” Luhan said, starting back over for the table. 

“You’re back,” Tao said brightly when Luhan got there, jumping up to pull his chair out for him. “I’m sorry you got sick.”

“Thanks,” Luhan told him with a laugh.

“It’s your fault,” Kris teased, musing Tao’s hair like he was still that college kid who got tripped up over his own feet. “He took one look at that ugly facial hair you’re trying to grow, and lost his breakfast.”

Tao wailed loudly, “Luhan, that’s not true, right? Kris is just being mean. That’s totally not true!”

Some things, Luhan figured, never changed.

“It’s not that bad,” Lay said, trying to soften the wailing protest from Tao. “In a couple of years, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of facial hair.”

Luhan’s fingers curled around his carrot juice as he watched Tao stroke at the little patch of hair under his bottom lip almost reverently.

Luhan had missed Lay something fierce. For the most part, Sehun had been the one with the friends who drifted the most. Luhan had had Xiumin stay close, and and Kris as well. Tao had gone back to China for some time after his graduation, but he’d come back eventually, almost like South Korea had called him home. Now Tao was working on a graduate degree, working out of doctor’s office towards his goal of being a physical therapist. 

Lay was the holdout. Lay was the one friend Luhan hadn’t been able to hold onto. Lay, like he’d promised is parents, and like the dutiful son that Luhan wasn’t, had gone back to China shortly after Youri had been born. And of course he’d visited off and on, most notably for Chen and Eunji’s wedding, but he’d stayed away the longest of everyone

Luhan understood, ultimately. Lay was married now, married to Yiru who he’d brought with him for the party, and who had been the one to help Sehun get him out of Beijing after Luhan’s parents had tricked him into going in the first place. Lay wasn’t just a married man, either. He was advancing quickly through his father’s company, and would probably be the head of it within another decade or so. Lay was setting down roots, and building his future, and Luhan only wanted him to be happy.

Plus, Lay truly was good about visiting. He came a couple times a year, and that was just enough, even if he only stayed for a few of days at a time.

Lay had even promised to be there for the new baby’s birth. Lay had said, “I was there when Youri was born, and so I want to be here for this new one.”

That touched Luhan deeply and profoundly. He didn’t think any of his friends had any idea how important it was to him that they were near during important times in his life, but having them there made all the difference in the world. 

Especially if … if Sehun …

No. Luhan wasn’t going to think about that. Sehun had given his sworn word. He’d said that no matter how his job took him away in the months leading up to the baby’s birth, he was going to be there when the event came. Luhan couldn’t accept any other possibility.

Luhan reached across the table to pat Tao’s hand and said, “It looks fine. I promise.”

Kris made a loud, offensive sound into his iced coffee.

“Stop whining,” Xiumin ordered to Tao, but not rudely. “Luhan’s right. It looks okay. Kris is just being mean.”

“So now you’re all ganging up on me?” Kris asked, actually looking delighted, rather than offended. 

“No one is ganging up on anyone,” Lay insisted. 

“You’re just saying that because no one ever gangs up on you,” Kris pointed out.

Luhan leaned all the way back in his chair, bringing his carrot juice up to take a drink, pleasure curing his way through his body. This. He missed this so much. The simple banter, the easy arguing, and the bickering that really only meant they were a group of friends who would do anything for each other. 

Luhan was jarred from his thoughts with a nudge to his side, and then Tao was asking, “Hey, Luhan, there’s your friend, right?”

Luhan looked across the café to where Wei had just come in. He was scanning the crowd, obviously looking for them, and Luhan put his hand up and waved.

“That’s Wei,” Luhan said, looking from face to face. “I asked him to come, if you guys don’t mind. I didn’t want him to be lonely, and I knew he didn’t have any work to do today.”

Xiumin, unsurprisingly, was the first to shrug and say, “Of course not. Why would we mind?” Luhan certainly thought Xiumin didn’t, and it had everything to do with that obvious crush he was harboring.

“Sorry I’m running late,” Wei said when he reached them. He slipped his satchel over his head and set it down in the empty chair next to Xiumin. He looked over the faces he didn’t recognize and introduced, “I’m Wei, Luhan’s friend. I hope you don’t mind if I join you. Luhan said it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Xiumin’s head craned up to look at Wei and he said firmly, “Of course you can join us. We’d be glad to have you.”

Luhan rather liked the look Xiumin got in his eyes when he saw Wei. It was sweet. 

“Okay then,” Wei said, appeased. He touched Xiumin’s shoulder in a far more intimate way than expected, and said, “I’m going to grab a coffee then. Can I get you one, Minseok?”

A smile broke on Luhan’s face. 

Tao looked baffled, Lay looked pensive, and Kris just had plain shock and surprise on his face.

“A macchiato?” Xiumin proposed.

Wei nodded and turned to go just as Kris told him, “I own the place, you know. Tell them you’re my friend. They won’t charge you.”

Wei gave a single shoulder shrug and turned to look at Xiumin one more time, saying, “I’d kind of like to buy his drink, actually, if you don’t mind. But thanks all the same.” 

Wei headed off to get in line, Xiumin turned a furious shade of red, and Kris asked flatly, “Okay, what the hell was that?”

“That was none of your business,” Xiumin told him sharply

Luhan interjected, “That was my oldest friend, Wei, making it very clear to all of you, just what kind of a man he is.”

Wei had never been timid, to say the least. Even when they’d been younger, and he and Luhan had been capitulating to the will of their parents, Wei had never been one to do anything but make his intentions known.

“What?” Tao’s head tilted. 

“I said,” Xiumin repeated, “that’s none of anyone’s business.”

Lay smiled softly and said, “I think it’s cute. He’s sweet on you.”

“He’s handsome, too,” Tao interjected, looking Wei over. “Luhan, have you been hiding super-hot friends? Do you have some more? Preferably female? Why should only Xiumin get your hot Chinese friends?”

“Enough,” Xiumin said sharply.

“Alright, alright,” Luhan agreed, more worried that Xiumin was going to have a stroke over the teasing, than anything else. “Everyone stop making fun of Xiumin, even though he and Wei have been making googly eyes at each other for days, and having dinner together, and are definitely, definitely going to kiss soon—if they already haven’t.”

Xiumin gave a scandalized intake of air.

Kris chuckled lowly. “How does it feel to be the one getting ganged up on now?”

Lay leaned forward a little and commented, “You two do make a lovely couple.”

“But kind of funny,” Tao decided. “He’s so tall, and you’re so short, Xiumin.”

Luhan felt kind of bad. Xiumin absolutely did look like he was going to have stroke now. 

But thankfully things had quieted down at their table by the time Wei returned with two drinks in hand. And no one said a word when Wei sat down, handed Xiumin his drink, and then put an arm around the back of his chair.

Luhan thought it was something wonderful that Wei was being so bold with his affection. There was certainly nothing imposing about the way he was acting, but Wei was also … in a way, courting Xiumin. There was a traditional feeling to the way Wei was acting towards Xiumin, and it was everything that Luhan thought Xiumin deserved and more. 

“So what were you guys talking about before I got here?” Wei asked, sipping at his coffee.

“I believe,” Kris said, seemingly taking the Wei and Xiumin matter like it was normalcy already, “we were attempting to drag up the past with embarrassing stories of when we were much younger, and less smart. I take it you’ve got a couple for us about Luhan?”

Wei’s eyes lit with delight. “Actually, I’ve got a lot of embarrassing stories about Han I could share.”

“Don’t you dare,” Luhan warned, leveling a finger at him. “You have to sleep in my guest room for at least a couple more days. If you say anything, I will smother you in your sleep.”

Wei asked them, “You see what this pregnancy has done to him? He used to be so sweet.”

Luhan replied, “I have embarrassing stories about you, too.”

“Sure,” Wei agreed. “But these are your friends, Han. I think the stories about you are going to impact a little more.”

Flatly, Kris said, “Tell us everything you know, Wei.”

Luhan groaned as Wei said, “Well, I don’t even know where to start.”

As it turned out, and much to Luhan’s great relief, Wei and his friends got along splendidly. Of course there’d been no doubt that Xiumin would welcome Wei into the fray, but Luhan had been a little worried about the others. Kris was rarely one to comment on it, but he could often be a little too protective of their circle of friends and the idea of expanding it. And while Lay was as calm, cool, and accepting, Tao was equally unpredictable.

But time passed in a deliciously amusing way, their group talking about the past, trying their best to predict the future, and simply relishing in the company of each other.

Luhan went through two carrot juices, made three trips to pee, and watched Xiumin and Wei hold hands not so unnoticeably under the table, all before the sun was getting close to setting in the background.

He’d needed this, he realized. He loved Sehun and Youri and all of his other friends. But these people were the ones who’d been with him before any kind of craziness had started to occur, and they were the ones who knew him best. 

It was nice enough when he saw them separately at different point in the year, but having them all together at once? It was priceless. 

Of course it couldn’t last forever. And eventually Tao had to go, followed by Kris, and then Luhan watched Wei walk Xiumin out to his car.

“You’re looking well,” Lay told him when they were alone. He gave Luhan an approving look. “I know you’ve been suffering from morning sickness your entire pregnancy, and Kris told me you’ve had some stress in your life lately, but overall, you do look very good.”

“You do too,” Luhan insisted. “I really mean it. I think marriage suits you.” Luhan had had some reservations surrounding Lay’s nuptials, of course. He’d always felt guilty in a way, too. Lay had always been very open about his loyalty to his family and his country, and how unlike Tao and Luhan, he wasn’t interested in relocating back to South Korea. But Luhan also knew that Lay had cherished his time in Seoul. Lay had had to go back and get married sooner than expected because he’d bargained his extra time away from home, to help Luhan get away from his parents.

Still, Lay stood before him now over a year into his marriage, looking happy and content in a way that couldn’t be faked. 

“I’m happy to be here for this,” Lay insisted. “I’m always happy to come visit.”

In a distracted way, Luhan raised an elbow up on the table and said, feeling a lump in this throat, “Can I ask your advice about something? It’s something important, and I want to talk to someone who is Chinese, who understands our culture and way of doing things, before I bring it up to Sehun.”

A smile played on Lay’s face.

“What?” Luhan asked, suddenly unnerved.

“You said our culture,” Lay reminded. “I was surprised to hear you say that. I imagined you thought of yourself wholly as Korean now.”

“No,” Luhan said, shaking his head. “I think … well, Korea is definitely my home now. I have a Korean husband, and my children are half Korean. But inside? Inside I still feel Chinese. No matter if I don’t plan to go back to China until Youri and the baby are much, much older, and regardless if I’ve been disowned or not. Inside, I think I’ll always feel Chinese.” 

“You know what?” Lay posed. “Oddly enough, that makes me feel better, from one National to another.”

Luhan pressed, “And I do want to go back some day. I know Sehun probably thinks the opposite of that, and maybe I didn’t know that I wanted to go back until just recently. It took some time, I’ll admit, to separate the trauma my parents caused, from China itself. I won’t let them ruin China for me.”

Lay gave him a supportive look. “If and when you decide the time is right to come back, Yiru and I would be flattered and honored to host you. You’d never have to worry about being safe with us.”

Luhan pointed out, “The truth is, I think I disinterested my parents very much by now. There’s nothing left of the relationship to salvage, and I ruined most, if not all of their plans the last time I was with them.”

Lay chuckled humorously. 

“I want to take Youri to see China one day,” Luhan confessed, already imagining it. “I want her to see where I came from, and the beauty that is China. I worry, you know, about her losing touch with how Chinese she is. She’s being raised in Korea. She speaks Korean most of the time, and is immersed in Korean culture. It wouldn’t be hard for her to overlook anything Chinese, and I don’t want that for my daughter.”

Lay corrected, “You and Youri are welcome any time.”

Luhan really believed Lay when he said that. Lay was fabulously generous and kind, and he never stated something he wasn’t willing to fully back. If Lay promised them safe harbor, then Luhan wasn’t going to be worried, especially with the amount of power that Lay was now coming into. His family was deeply influential in the commerce world of international business, and by the time Youri was old enough to travel to China, Lay was probably going to be one of the wealthiest, and most powerful men in the country. 

“Thank you for the offer,” Luhan said unabashedly. “But this thing I wanted to talk to you about, it’s also why I’m terrified to put Youri anywhere near China.”

Lay frowned, creases cutting into his skin. “Tell me.”

When Luhan risked a look outside he could see Wei and Xiumin just within sights. Xiumin was in his car, and Wei was leaning down to talk to him. They looked absorbed in whatever they were speaking about, or rather like nothing else around each other existed.

“They’re adorable, really.”

Luhan looked to Lay, realizing the other man had traced his gaze.

“I didn’t set them up or anything,” Luhan said. “I just introduced them. I think they … well, come people just click. Some people are compatible.”

“I suppose so,” Lay agreed. “Even our Minseok, it seems. And you’d agree, I think, that he’s a bit of a longer at times.”

“I guess,” Luhan agreed slowly.

“But,” Lay eased out, “Wei is only in the country or a short while, isn’t he?”

Luhan answered, “Not that short, from what I understand. I think he’ll be here for another five or so months, maybe six, but you’re right, after that he’ll publish his editorial, and then I imagine he’ll move on to his next big story.”

Lay nodded pensively. “So then I wonder, if things between the two of them become serious, what happens to their relationship?”

Luhan felt suddenly horrified and ashamed. He hadn’t thought of that at all. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, but it should have. Because for as adorable and wonderful as he found the budding romance between Wei and Xiumin, if something went wrong …

Wei was a lot like rubber. He could bounce around a lot, take a lot of hits, and keep right on going. He wasn’t a machine, and he was a deeply emotional person when the situation called for it., but he was durable and enduring. 

But Xiumin was different. Xiumin had a hard shell, but he was all softness on the inside. And this was the first time Luhan had seen Xiumin reach out to someone else and take a chance. He was inching along slowly with Wei, but there was definite progress. 

If Xiumin got his heart broken one more time, Luhan didn’t know what would come after. And he’d feel nothing but guilt for it all. 

Lay said certainly, “I’m not suggesting we dissuade them in any way. I like Wei, Luhan. He’s far different of a man now, than you descried him to be long long ago. And neither is Xiumin my best friend as he is yours. But if either of them was hurt by the natural progression of life …”

“I should talk to Xiumin?” Luhan asked, unsure.

Lay only shrugged. “I’m not sure, but maybe? I would. None of us have any place to tell him whether to take risks and not to. But if he’s aware of the future, he can better prepare for it. Agreed?”

Luhan felt stronger for the words. “You’re absolutely right. Now, can I bounce more drama off you?”

“Always,” Lay said, then promised, “and it’s never a burden to help you.”

Luhan braced himself for a second, then said, “Wei brought a letter with him when he came. He brought a letter from my parents, and we’re both convinced that it’s directed at Youri.”

Even Lay looked startled by that. “About your daughter?”

Luhan nodded in a worried way, slipping back into Chinese easily to say, “Wei was instructed to give it to me, and it originated from my parents. He didn’t open it, so he doesn’t know for sure, and I’ve been too scared to. But it must be about Daiyu, correct? The would never write to me. They disowned me. I’m as familiar to them now as a stranger. I’m only an intermediary between them and their granddaughter.”

Confused, Lay wondered, “Why would they be writing to you about Daiyu?”

Luhan posed, “Because they’re older now, and I was their only child. They had an advantageous marriage, to say the least, uniting two major families into one business merger worth … well, more than I even cared to think about. They were trying to prime me for the position of heir since I was a child, and as you know, I resisted.”

“You may think I judge you for that,” Lay said swiftly, “but I do not.”

“Judge me?” Luhan asked, uncertain. “Because you gave up your own wants to fulfill what your family asked of you, and I selfishly defected?” 

Kindly, Lay said, “You didn’t defect, Luhan, and there are major differences in our situations. I enjoy the job I do. I’m happy to continue the family business. It’s not a burden for me. For you, it would have been a jail sentence.”

“I wasn’t a good Chinese son by any standard,” Luhan pointed out.

Lay countered, “You were true to yourself, and you might be surprised to find how many people are not strong enough to do what you did.”

On that, Luhan sat and thought for a second.

Finally he brought them back to the conversation they’d been having and said, “What I’ve been trying to get at is that my parents really put everything they had, all their hope and faith, into me as their heir. So when I decided to give it all up, and they disowned me, it left them with a power vacuum to deal with. I’ve got half a dozen first cousins that have probably been vying for power since then.”

“Ah,” Lay said, “but Daiyu is your biological daughter, and their biological granddaughter. Regardless of how you’ve been cut off, that doesn’t invalidate her, and she’s probably miles ahead of any of your first cousins in terms of legitimacy.”

“I know,” Luhan said simply. 

“And that worries you,” Lay guessed.

Luhan told him, “I guess I thought that my parents would just write Dayu off. She was their little illegitimate grandbaby, as far as they were concerned, when I was pregnant with her. They wanted nothing to do with her. They saw her as a speed bump to fly over, if possible. I completely ignored the possibility that eventually they’d realize her value and worth to the family.”

“She is your family’s legitimate heir,” Lay agreed. “Even if it took some time for them to realize it, she is. You never gave her up to Sehun. You didn’t capitulate to marry Wei and produce the full-blooded Chinese heir that they desperately wanted. So it’s Daiyu or nothing, and I bet they want to avoid nothing.”

Once more, Luhan said, “I’m terrified for what’s in that letter. I’m terrified it’s my parents saying they want access to Daiyu, saying they want her to be primed for the position they wanted me in. I’m terrified of all the demands they could make, and damage they could do.”

Lay didn’t answer right away. 

“I don’t know what I’m really asking,” Luhan confessed. “Maybe I want you to tell me I’m being paranoid and ridiculous and to just open the damned letter. Or maybe I want you to support me, and tell me my parents are dangerous, and that keeping anything to do with them far, far away from Daiyu, is the best idea ever. If you tell me to just throw the letter out and forget about it, I’ll take that suggestion seriously.”

“Don’t you want to know?” Lay asked. “Are you more afraid than curious?”

“Of my parents?” Luhan rested his elbows on the table. “Isn’t that stupid? I am. I’m an adult, and I’m still scared.”

“They can’t hurt you here, Luhan.”

“Not physically,” Luhan said. He put his chin in his palms. “But there’s a lot of damage people can do to each other without lifting a finger. That’s what I’m scared about. Do you understand?”

Lay seemed to think for a while, then said, “If this bothers you so much, and you’re so worried, throw the letter in the garbage. That is your past, Luhan. Sehun and Daiyu and that baby of yours, that’s your future. If you want to keep the break clean, that you made well over three years ago, then throw the letter in the garbage.”

Luhan wondered if he could. He talked about wanting to do it, and imagined himself in the action, but when it came to his parents, he still felt so weak. 

“I have these nightmares,” Luhan said to him. “That one day I’m going to go down to Daiyu’s school and the teacher will tell me that someone already came by and picked her up. And I’ll have lost my baby, Lay. The terror involved in that thought … the idea that my parents could just snatch Daiyu up because they know I’ll do what it takes to keep her from them, is enough to induce a panic attack.”

Lay eyed his stomach then and asked, “They don’t know you’re pregnant again, do they?”

Luhan shook his head. 

“Then they certainly don’t know it’s a boy.”

Luhan said, “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve had the thought. My parents are under the impression that Daiyu is my only child, and their only grandchild. If they knew this baby existed, and that he’s a boy, they might turn their gaze onto him.”

So then the nightmares of Daiyu being missing from her nursery school simply transformed into nightmares of a baby being stolen from a bassinet. 

Lay reached across the table to take Luhan’s hand in his own. He said, “It’s okay to be scared of people who hurt you terribly—who damaged you. It’s not wrong to consider them, their means, and their abilities, as something worthy of fear. But if you live in ignorance and something happens, that’s your fault, and no one else’s.”

Luhan took a deep breath. “You’re saying open the letter.”

Kindly, Lay squeezed his hand. “I’m saying, do whatever you need to in order to protect your family. But yes, I think you should open it, and tell Sehun, and together the both of you can figure the best way to handle the situation.”

Sehun. Luhan really didn’t want to risk rocking the boat there. After all, he and Sehun had just been through several days of unnecessary drama caused by a lack of communication. So keeping the letter from Sehun felt like a bad idea. But just as bad seemed heaping more stress on him. 

“Sehun isn’t as breakable as you think he is,” Lay said, as if he could read Luhan’s mind. “And he’s also the fiercest man I know, when it comes to protecting his family. Give him a chance to do so?”

The door to the café jingled, and in came Wei.

“I guess I have to,” Luhan said, releasing his grip on Lay’s hand. “And of course you’re right. I never thought Sehun was breakable. I just worry. I always worry.”

Laughing a little, Lay pointed out, “That’s one thing you and Sehun greatly have in common.”

“Ah,” Wei remarked, sliding into the chair next to Luhan, “the language of my people. Korean is very nice, I must admit, but it’s nice to hear natural Chinese speakers.”

Luhan teased, “I’m surprised you can even understand us anymore. You’ve been living in other countries for so long you Chinese is atrocious.”

Wei gasped a hand to his chest dramatically. “That is so rude and completely unfounded for you to say.”

“But he’s not wrong,” Lay laughed. “Your pronunciation is highly in question.”

Before Wei could sputter any kind of real response, Luhan patted his shoulder and said, “Come on, we should be getting home. I’m sure Baekhyun’s going crazy after having two toddler girls in his care for so long. This wasn’t even his day, either, so now I owe him.”

Lay insisted, “I’ve heard personally for him how much he loves tea time. Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

Luhan let Wei heave him up to his feet, and then he said, “I really missed you, Lay. I know we’re not in the same place in our lives anymore, and that’s okay. But I really, really missed you.” Six or so months between visits was starting to feel like too much now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lay offered. “Be safe getting home.”

Wei promised over Luhan’s shoulder, “I’m am amazing driver, actually. He’s safe with me.”

“The crash wasn’t my fault,” Luhan reminded as they made their way out onto the street and towards Sehun’s car. Sehun was at home, and had been for nearly the whole day, working with Chanyeol in his study to get their presentation ready for their trip to Hong Kong. Luhan had dropped Youri off at Baekhyun’s, and then gone out all day with his friends to give Sehun the space he needed to work. 

But now it was time to go home. Mostly because he knew it would only be so long before Sehun’s work stopped distracting him and he started worrying about Luhan being out. And also because Luhan knew Lay was right. He’d probably know the right thing before he’d already asked. He and Sehun needed to open the letter. They needed to know what they were dealing with, and if necessary, work out a plan of action. 

By the time Luhan, Wei and Youri got home, roughly forty-five minutes later, Chanyeol was already gone, and Sehun was on the phone to someone who sounded suspiciously like his mother, as he paced in the kitchen.

“Uncle Wei?” Youri asked, tilting her head way back and tugging on his arm. “Will you come play transformer unicorn dinosaurs with me?”

Luhan barked out a laughed. “What?”

Wei practically tossed Youri up into the air, to which she adored and Luhan’s stomach did not. Then he said to Luhan, “Transformer unicorn dinosaurs. Don’t you know? Han. Come on now.”

Luhan waved them off, just happy for the privacy.

When Sehun saw Luhan, he waved him into the kitchen quickly, ending the conversation and saying, “You probably guessed, that was my mom. She wanted to know if she could come over this weekend and smother you to death with mint tea and ginger and all the things she’s been reading on the internet that are supposed to magically cure your morning sickness.”

“You told her we’ve got plans this weekend, right?” Luhan didn’t catch himself until the end, and then corrected with a wince, “Well, I’ve got plans this weekend, and you have to fly out of the country.”

Sehun looked sad as he said, “I think she’s still upset we didn’t tell her about your accident until today. She seems to think she needed to be there in the hospital to hold your hand while the doctor said that the baby looked perfectly fine.”

“Next week?” Luhan tried.

Sehun nodded. “That was my suggestion, too. She’s bringing a sister or two of mine to make up for it, but she agreed.”

Luhan found himself quickly swept up into Sehun’s arms, and the warmth that flooded his body was only compacted by the flush of a kiss pressed to his mouth. 

“I missed you,” Sehun said, holding him close.

Luhan said with a smile, “I missed you, too.”

Curiously, Sehun asked, “I would have thought our daughter might have missed me, too, but she was only too happy to run off with a strange man.”

Luhan pointed out, “I think she predicted you probably weren’t going to play transformer unicorn dinosaurs with her.” Sehun made an exaggerated face. “I bet you’d rather not know.”

“You’re right,” Sehun agreed. “I’d rather just have you here, in my arms, for a couple moments of peace.”

Luhan did let them have that. For minutes of gentle touches and loving kisses, he said nothing. But eventually he sated, “I got a letter from my parents.” He went from there.

It was with shaking hands, after he’d gotten Sehun settled into the privacy of the home office, that he handed the card over to him.

“This is from them?” Sehun asked.

Luhan sat next to him on the sofa in the corner. “I’m worried it’s about Youri. I’m worried they want to see her. I thought … she’s our daughter. Ours. This is something we have to face together.”

Darkly, with a hint of real anger, Sehun vowed, “I will never let them near her. Not after what they did to you, and how meaningless she was to them before she was even born. I won’t let them near her no matter what you say. I swear it.”

“I won’t fight you on that,” Luhan promised. “I’m just as scared as you are that they might be taking an interest in her, and that’s before they even know she’s going to have a baby brother in a couple of months.”

Seething, Sehun said, “We won’t let them have at our family.”

“Open it,” Luhan said, tapping it.

“Okay.” Sehun slid his finger under the slight opening. “Ready.”

“We’ve got each other,” Luhan said with definitiveness. He kissed the corner of Sehun’s mouth for good measure. “Now open it so we can know what’s inside, and decide what to do next.”


	10. Chapter 10: Sehun

Quietly, very quietly, Sehun said, “Luhan’s pretty shaken over the entire matter. You know, he’s solid like a rock, and he doesn’t let things get to him very much. But this?”

On the phone, Suho asked, “Bad?”

Sehun sighed and ran a hand through his sleep messy hair. “Youri used to have a bad habit of trying to climb in our bed at night. And I mean hey, you know I’d have her sleeping with us every night, if Luhan would allow it, but he’s always been very strict about her sleeping in her ow room and us having clear definitions of who’s space is whose.”

“Sehun,” Suho said kindly, obviously trying to get him back on track.

Sehun said, “Youri climbed in bed last night. She had an accident. We’ve been potty training for some time now, and during the day, she only wears her big girl underwear. Sometimes at night, she does too. And last night, she was and had an accident. Usually Luhan will get up, change her, and put her right back to bed.”

“But not last night?”

Sehun was downstairs now, starting coffee in the kitchen, his socked feet sliding across the hardwood floors. 

“He let her stay,” Sehun revealed. “He didn’t even think twice about it. I got her into some clean clothes, and Luhan tucked her in close. That’s where she is now. She and Luhan are still sleeping upstairs.”

Leaning a hip against a countertop, Sehun tried to tap his face in order to wake up more quickly. His alarm had been set to go off in roughly half an hour, but he was lucky he’d woken up before it. It gave him a chance to talk things through with the man who really was, for all intents and purposes, his big brother, and also to prep for the day.

Because this was the day. 

This was the day of Luhan’s big get together, and when that was happening, Sehun and Chanyeol were going to be sitting on a plane to fly off to Hong Kong for five or six days, depending on how smoothly the initial transition developed.

Sehun hadn’t even told Youri yet, and he felt terrible about it, but he wanted to savor his carefree daughter for just a little longer. Luhan was right when he said Youri was getting old enough now that she was starting to notice when he was away at the office for too long. Surely she was going to notice now when he was missing for almost a week. 

How long before she started to resent that?

“Well, I don’t want you to panic,” Suho said, and of course Sehun felt guilty for waking him so early in the morning. Suho, and likely Emily, were jetlagged. Sehun could hear it in Suho’s voice. But Suho had still picked up the phone for him, and was holding an intelligent conversation. Suho was something kind of marvelous. 

“Don’t panic?” Sehun asked sharply, turning at the sound of a door opening. Wei was slipping out of his bedroom down the hall, yawning loudly, still dressed in his pajamas. Sehun was quick to wave him over and turned back to the coffee pot to say, “Luhan and I just got a letter from his creepy, terrible, dangerous parents, which all but demanded we hand our daughter over.”

Sharply, Suho said, “No one is giving Youri to anyone, and you know that.”

Sehun forced himself to calm. “I know. I know. I just … you gotta read this thing, Suho. Luhan translated it for me carefully, very carefully, and also let me know the tone of the letter, which is not nice to say the least.”

Suho proposed, “I don’t know if any of us truly believed that Luhan’s parents would stay away for good.” 

“No,” Sehun agreed. “But now they’re calling Luhan a mistake, and telling him to do the honorable thing and basically give them control of Youri.”

Wei had an incredulous look on his face when he heard that part, coming into the kitchen, swearing quietly in Chinese.

“I’ll say it again,” Suho reminded. “No one is touching Youri. She isn’t setting foot into China until either she’s a legal adult, or you and Luhan say it’s okay. Luhan’s parents will not do anything to her, in any way, and that’s because we won’t let them.”

Shakily, Sehun put a flat palm down on a countertop and said, “Luhan is scared. I could see it in his eyes last night. He’s terrified they’re going to snatch Youri away in the middle of the night.”

It certainly wasn’t just Luhan who was scared. 

Suho supposed, “Or trick her into the country somehow?”

“She’s three,” Sehun ground out. “Nearly four. It wouldn’t take much for her to be tricked.”

With a little laugh, Suho posed, “Isn’t that why we exist? We’re not so easy to trick, and I think Luhan learned his lesson the one and only time he let that happen to him.”

That was something Sehun was still reeling from. So many years later and Sehun remembered too clearly how it all could have panned out. He could have lost Luhan. He could have lost Youri for a time. He could have lost them to China, and to a situation that was wrong on so many levels. He still didn’t know where he’d gotten the gusto and courage to go after Luhan from, only that it was the moment he’d truly known how much he loved Luhan, and the lengths at which he was willing to go for him.

That really had been the moment, Sehun had known. The idea of a life without Luhan had stolen his breath away. That’s how he’d known it was love. 

Just as Sehun was setting out a coffee mug for an anxious looking Wei, Suho said, “I want to see that letter as soon as I can. My Chinese is terrible, but there’s an expert I want to see it. And I’ll also make a few calls to a couple of influential and powerful people I know. We’ll set the right guards and buffers in place, Sehun. At the very least, I have a good friend in customs. If Luhan’s parents try to enter the country at any time, or anyone affiliated with them, we’ll get an alert.”

Sehun slid the mug over to Wei and said shakily, “It’s not just Youri we’re worried about. Luhan’s parents are very traditional. Youri wasn’t their first choice, we all know that, but she’s their most legitimate one right now. If they find out the baby Luhan’s carrying is a boy?”

Sehun shivered in fear. At least Youri was old enough to recognize some threats. She could kick or scream or fight, if necessary. She could be resourceful. But the baby? For a long time the new baby was going to just be a baby, with no defenses.

More firmly and surely than Sehun had heard him before, Suho promised, “No one is going to touch your family, Sehun. We’ll do whatever it takes. Do you believe me?”

Of course Sehun did. This was Suho. And Suho … Suho was the big brother who made promises that he never failed to keep. 

“I believe you.”

“Good,” Suho said sharply. “Luhan’s parents don’t have any legal claim to Youri, in either country. They don’t have any leverage, and they don’t have any advantage. Stop thinking they do, and yes, I can practically hear the fear in your head vibrating on those notions. Stop it. They’re just grandparents who want a shot at a child that they can mold into what they want. And they know that underneath it all, Luhan is still looking for their approval, no matter how little he may realize it or want it. He’s still their son, and children always want that from their parents. They’re trying to prey on that. They’re master manipulators. They’re powerful people who think they know how to coerce people into getting what they want. But they’re about to learn one very important thing.”

“What’s that?”

Sehun could imagine the arch to Suho’s eyebrow as he said, “They don’t know who they’re messing with.”

And against the odds, Suho’s words calmed him.

Suho urged, “Tell Luhan I’m on this. Tell him we have the resources and the manpower. Tell him I’m saying everything is going to be okay, and not to worry, and to trust me.”

Softly, Sehun said, “We always trust you, Suho.”

Suho made an agreeable sound. “Okay. Then get some coffee and wake up. I’ll see you and Luhan in a couple of hours. Emily’s really looking forward to meeting everyone, and you know what, so am I.”

The phone line clicked over and Sehun’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t told anyone, outside of Luhan and Chen, and Chanyeol who already knew, about not being there for the party.He felt like Suho should have been told, but Sehun had never found the right moment, and then there’d been a distraction. A big one.

Wei startled him a little by saying roughly, “That’s what it said, then?” Sehun swung fully towards him. “They want at Daiyu?”

“Youri,” Sehun corrected instinctively, now more than ever eager to distance her from her Chinese roots. “And yes, Luhan said you called it. His asshole parents want at Youri.”

Wei looked pensive for a moment, and Sehun poured coffee into his mug. Then Wei said, “Youri is their future. Han’s family is particularly known for its instability within its members. They’re always vying for power and jockeying for position. Han being born really quieted that down for some time, but when he fled to Korea, and then got disowned, it stirred things up again. A company in China, at least in part, is only as strong as the family backing it. It only makes sense his parents would look at Youri as the way to turn it all around.”

“They’re batshit crazy,” Sehun said bluntly, “if they think they’re getting anywhere near my daughter.”

“Agreed,” Wei said without hesitation. “Han and I grew up in that world, with that pressure, and that feeling of … of suffocation. We wouldn’t want that for her in a million years. Especially not considering the kind of free spirit that Youri is. She’s a beautiful flower in a lot of ways, and in China, she’d wither and die in months.”

Sehun felt his stomach clench down at those words.

He told Wei, “Luhan translated the letter for me. He said his parents are only asking for her for the summer, but neither of us think that they just want to spend time with Youri.Neither of us are buying their fake innocent bullshit, especially since there’s a lot of talk about the future of the family, in which it’s pretty obvious they’re trying to guilt trip Luhan into this.”

Wei gave him a flat look. “Do they think you and Han are stupid?”

Sehun sighed. “They must. But they’re going to learn in about three seconds how not stupid we are. Luhan doesn’t wish any ill will on his parents. He’s a saint like that. He’s willing to put them in the past and keep them in the past, without any animosity or anger, and that’s something I wouldn’t be able to do. But he doesn’t care whether their company crashes and burns, or flourishes and succeeds. He doesn’t care if Youri is their heir apparent right now.”

Wei lifted his coffee cup and drank down some of the liquid black. Sehun wasn’t quite so daring with his own coffee, adding cream and sugar.

“That sounded like you had someone who can get things done, on the other end of the line.”

“Suho,” Sehun agreed.

“Oh,” Wei said. Sehun had no doubt that Luhan had said something to Wei about the way Suho was tied to Sehun, and about Jae. But it said something about Wei’s character that he didn’t push it. Instead, he commented, “The truth is, Han’s parents play dirty. They always have. The good news is, Han and I know most of their tricks. We know the things to look out for. So that’s one less thing for you all to worry about. At least it’s one last thing for Han to worry about.”

Sehun hummed quietly to that. Anything less for Luhan to worry about, was worthwhile. 

The sound of bare feet on hardwood floors brought Sehun away from the conversation, and he looked over to see Luhan making his way slowly into the kitchen.

With a smile on his face, Sehun pointed out, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping still?”

Luhan berated, “You know how much there is still to do today. You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.” But there was no anger him as he leaned over to garner a kiss from Sehun. Luhan’s breath was touched with a tint of mint, and it meant he’d been up long enough to brush his teeth already.

Sehun asked nervously, “The smell of coffee okay today?” Some days it was nothing to Luhan, and others it could have him in the bathroom for a half hour.

“Aside from what a dirty cheat you are for drinking it,” Luhan pointed out, leaning against Sehun’s side, “yes, no urges to run for the bathroom yet. I think … I think it’s going to be a good day for the nausea.”

Sehun brightened at that. “Good. Good.” He made sure to kiss Luhan properly then, tapping out a hello to the baby, pleased when the baby kicked back, and savoring the feeling of Luhan against him. When he left that afternoon for Hong Kong, it would be far, far too long before he held Luhan in his arms again.

“Is Youri still sleeping?” Sehun asked, reluctantly releasing Luhan to start getting ingredients out for breakfast. He’d never been a great cook, but he wanted to make something special for Luhan. He wanted to make the morning perfect. 

“She is,” Luhan said, a touch of worry in his eyes still. “I want her to sleep as long as possible, too. She’ll be worn out by today, to say the least, and I don’t know if she’ll get a nap in at all.”

Sehun chuckled out, “She’s only sleeping so well and so late into the morning because she’s in our bed. You know that’s her favorite place to sleep.”

Softly, Luhan said, “I wanted her close last night.” 

Sehun couldn’t disagree.

“Well,” Wei announced, moving to put his mug in the sink. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to step out for the morning. I need to sneak some work in before this party of yours. But I’ll be back in the afternoon if you need any help.”

“You sure?” Sehun asked with a frown. He didn’t want to feel like he was running Wei out. Sehun didn’t consider Wei family, but he couldn’t speak for Luhan in that regard, and to Sehun, everything now was about keeping Luhan happy. “You could stay and grab breakfast real quick.”

Wei’s eyes drifted between Luhan and Sehun, and with a grin, he admitted, “Actually, I asked Minseok if he’d meet met for breakfast.”

Luhan asked, “Things seem to be going somewhere with him, don’t they?”

On his way from the sink, Wei mused Luhan’s hair and teased, “You’re still my favorite Han. You don’t have to worry about losing that spot.”

Luhan protested, “I’m not worried at all.” He sobered to say, “I just think, well, maybe keep things slow for a while? Xiumin hasn’t really taken a chance on anyone in a long time. I’m not saying he’s fragile glass, but this isn’t something small, either. So please, just take it easy?”

“I’m not going to ask him to marry me by the end of the week,” Wei said comically. He afforded Luhan a more serious look after that and said, “You want to know the truth? The truth is, I like him. I like Minseok. I like that he’s easy to talk to, and we have a lot of the same interests, and on top of all that, he’s very, very handsome. I like that when I touch him, I feel something, and it’s been a long time for me, too, since that happened. I’m not rushing into anything, Han. I’m not going to break your best friend’s heart.”

Sehun could hear the strain in Luhan’s voice as he said, “I don’t want you to get your heart broken either.”

Weinodded certainly to Luhan. “Have a little faith, okay?” He was out of the house in twenty minutes after that, just when Sehun got breakfast on the table, and just as Youri was thumping her way down the stairs.

“This is nice,” Luhan said when the three of them were gathered around the breakfast table, food spread out. Youri was already happily digging into her breakfast, utterly preoccupied by it. 

Sehun countered, “Spending time with the people I love the most is always nice.”

Luhan found Sehun’s hand under the table. “We’re going to be okay, you know. We always manage somehow. We’ll manage now.”

Sehun squeezed his hand back. “As long as I have you and Youri, and our baby, nothing else matters.”

Breakfast was slow and delightful, and everything Sehun had wanted it to be. It was the perfect way to start the day, and Sehun made it a point to really think on the feeling of it. He and Luhan were usually rushed in the morning, and rarely had breakfast together with Youri. Sehun wanted that to change.

But afterwards, after breakfast, Luhan was all business. 

He told Sehun unequivocally, “I know your flight is this afternoon, but I really need your help this morning. I need you down at the place we rented out, getting things set up. I need you to do the heavy lifting while I make sure everything else is running smoothly.”

Youri cheered, “We’re have a party. Yay!”

Sehun snorted a laugh and kissed her head. “Yes, there’s a party.” He turned to Luhan and promised, “I’ll get whatever you need done. You can count on me.”

Luhan ordered, “Take Chen with you get it all set up.”

“Chen?”

“Yes, Chen,” Luhan said, starting to gather up their breakfast dishes. “Get him and make him talk. I want to know what’s going on with him and Eunji. Find out.”

“You sure that’s any of our business?” Sehun asked, uncertain. 

Luhan pointed out, “Chen is your best friend, and there’s something not good going on between him and his wife. It’s your job to find out, and to help fix it if you can. Do it.”

Sehun snuck his way to Luhan’s side and wrangled an arm around his waist. His pressed his lips to Luhan’s ear and mumbled, “You know I find it incredibly hot when you order me around like that.”

“You perv,” Luhan teased.

Sehun angled their mouths together quickly, taking as much of Luhan as the man offered. 

“Icky!” Youri protested from her spot still at the kitchen table in her booster seat.

“Go,” Luhan said, giving Sehun a little push. He grinned brightly. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”

Sehun insisted, “Not nearly as much as I love you.”

“Debatable,” Luhan insisted. “But I’d be happy to argue it with you at a later date.”

“It’s a promise,” Sehun said, and couldn’t wait.

Baekhyun came by no less than an hour later to pick Luhan up. Luhan pecked the side of Sehun’s mouth, more like a tease than anything else, and said, “We’re going to make sure everything is okay with the food. Please, please try and get to the bottom of the mess with Chen. He’s always been there for us, even when we didn’t know how to ask for his help. Now’s the time to be there for him.”

“I’ve got this,” Sehun insisted, and then pulled Luhan in for a much better kiss.

After Sehun had wrangled Chen into helping him set up the hall that had been rented out, not that much later after parting with Luhan, Chen pointed out darkly, “I don’t really see why I’m the one you suckered into helping you set up. I was promised good company and better food. Not hard labor.”

Sehun snorted, “If you think this is hard labor, Chen, we need to drop you off at the North Korean boarder for a quick refresher.”

Chen held up a sharp finger. “Don’t even joke about that.”

Rolling his eyes, Sehun pointed out, “I’m not even asking that much of you.” Really all they had to do was move the tables into the right spot, get all chairs set up, and put the finishing touches on the room. Luhan had done a spectacular job picking out a conference hall that boasted floor to ceiling windows on the side of the room that overlooked the Han river. The sight was idealic, serene, and downright beautiful.

“I know, I know,” Chen grumbled. 

Sehun bit back a smile. 

“And I guess it’s worth it,” Chen decided. “I talk to you all the time on the phone, and I do a couple of video chats once in a while with Suho and D.O, but for the most part, I’m never with you guys.”

Sehun gave a thoughtful hum. “I feel the same way, you know. It’s hard have my best friends I love so far away. It’s harder to have my very best friend in a different country.”

A terse look pulled at Chen’s face. “I miss Korea a lot.”

This was his opening. Sehun saw it like a parting of the sea. This was where he started digging.

“Have you and Eunji given any thought to coming back to Korea?” Sehun posed, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I know her research grant was for two years, and it’s been longer than that. She’s obviously enjoying her work, she’s very good at what she does. But have you guys started talking about coming back to Korea at any point?”

Suddenly Chen was leaning more of his weigh on the back of the chair nearest him, looking weary and defeated.

“Chen?”

Patience paid off eventually, because Chen admitted, “Eunji and I aren’t really talking very much these days … about anything.”

“Why not?” Carefully, Sehun broached, “Is this all coming back to the baby thing?”

Chen looked to him and returned, “Didn’t we already establish, days ago, that it always comes back to the baby thing?”

Fed up with them skirting the issue, Sehun abandoned his position across the room and moved to where Chen was, he took him by the elbow and sat them down in two chairs that faced each other.

Jokingly, Chen tried to ask, “This isn’t an intervention, is it?”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Sehun said, maybe a little too brashly, but open and honest. “Maybe I can’t help you in any way, but maybe you’ll also feel good if you can get it off your chest. You know I’ll never judge you. You know you’re my best friend and your problems are my problems.”

Chen wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“I know a little,” Sehun edged out. “And I thought it was nothing, but that was a wrong assumption, obviously.”

Hands clutching at is knees, Chen told him, “It is the baby thing.”

Sehun nodded in understanding.

In the baby department, Sehun and Chen had always been radically different. Sehun had always known he wanted to be a father. He’d always known, in a lot of ways, that he specifically always wanted a daughter. And when Seoyoung had been snatched from him, he’d thought that was done for. But then Luhan had come along, and they’d conceived Youri so easily, and though it had been rough, eventually everything had fallen into place.

Chen had always wanted a career, more than anything else. He wasn’t one to be swayed by toddling toddlers, or grinning babies, or the mere idea of being a father. In fact, Sehun knew that Chen and Eunji hadn’t even broached the subject of children before getting married.

But when they’d talked after, it had also been clear that both Chen and Eunji didn’t want kids right away. They wanted to play the role of doting aunt and uncle to Youri, but they wanted to continue to lead professional lives, and concentrate on their marriage.

“It’s kind of admirable,” Sehun had said to Luhan once, with Youri screaming in the background, throwing a tantrum over something or another. 

“Admirable?” Luhan had laughed, eyes jerking in Youri’s direction, always so aware of where she was and what she was doing. “Who wouldn’t like a lovely screaming toddler?”

It was admirable, Sehun had thought back then, that two people wanted to concentrate on each other, and not a bigger family, especially when their culture and society pushed the notion of family so heavily. 

Eventually though Chen and Eunji had decided to try for a baby. And that was the issue at hand.

Sehun said, “I know you guys were having trouble conceiving, but come on, Chen, you know it’s just a luck thing. You’ve got to be patient. You’ve only been trying for a year—a little over a year. Give yourself time.”

“Time?” Chen asked, laughing roughly. “Time has nothing to do with the issue.”

Suddenly Sehun felt guilty for how easily Youri had come into existence. And then he and Luhan had gone off birth control for only a short while before a second pregnancy had followed. Chen and Eunji had been trying and waiting for some time with nothing.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Chen said sadly, “maybe I feel a little ashamed, but it’s not just that we’re trying and it’s not happening. It’s … there’s …

Sehun urged, “You can tell me anything, in utter confidence, and know that it stays right between us. I won’t even tell Luhan if you want.”

Chen scoffed a little. “Tell Luhan for all I care now. I’m so tired. I’m so done. Tell the whole world.”

“Tell the world what?”

Gritting his teeth, Chen revealed, “I’ve got a low sperm count.”

Sehun balked a little. “A low sperm count?”

Nodding, Chen explained, “Eunji thought something was wrong, when we tried for a year and nothing. So we both went and got checked out. We both got a full workup done. Of everything. And you know what they found? Eunji? She’s amazingly healthy. There’s nothing wrong with her. But me?” He broke off. Then, in a much softer voice, he said, “It’s a chromosomal thing. A birth defect. I shoot blanks, essentially. My sperm count isn’t a fraction of what it should be, and all the specialists we’ve been to see, think the chances of a natural conception are slim to none.”

Sehun sat back hard. “Wow.” He didn’t know what to say to that, or how to make it better—if he even could. 

“And now we fight,” Chen said matter of factly. “All we do is fight about it.”

Aghast, Sehun asked, “She doesn’t blame you, right? That’s not something that’s your fault, Chen.”

“No,” Chen said tersely, “she doesn’t blame me. She knows I don’t control my sperm count. But she feels like we’ve don’t nothing but waste time. She wants to move on. She wants to go back to her career and pretend like none of this happened.”

“And you,” Sehun guessed, “don’t.”

Now there was an unexpected wetness in Chen’s eyes when he said, “I didn’t picture myself a father, you know. I thought it might happen, but it wasn’t something I really wanted. And Eunji and I really had to talk ourselves into it. That could have been a mistake. But when we did, Sehun, when we decided to go for it, I realized I wanted a baby so badly. I wanted a daughter like Youri, or a son. I wanted what you have. And now I have this. I have nothing.”

Sehun urged quickly, “You said next to impossible, not actually impossible. Chen. You can’t give up.”

“Don’t you get it?” Chen asked harshly. He rocked up to his feet and Sehun was quiet. 

Sehun felt at a loss.

“Eunji doesn’t want to try anymore.” Chen crossed to the window on the other side of the room and looked out at it, at the Han river. “She says she’s done. She says she won’t try anymore. She won’t let herself get her hopes up, only for her period to come each and every month. She won’t do it, Sehun. And me? I can’t stop wanting it. It’s all I can think about now. It’s the most important thing in the world to me, and my wife thinks exactly the opposite.”

“Chen,” Sehun said softly. “You two should talk, you should—”

“We have talked enough!” Chen had shouted, but that was so unlike him, and he quickly lowered his voice to say, “Sehun, I think we’re done talking at this point. I think … well, Eunji and I are at a divide here. We love each other, we love each other so much, that’s not the problem. But she wants our family to be two. I want three.”

Sehun tried to imagine what his life would have been like without Youri, and he absolutely couldn’t. It wasn’t just that Youri had brought Sehun and Luhan together, but that she was a part of them. She was a part of what made them who they were. And a life without her was no life worth living.

Sehun wondered if Chen looked at Youri and knew that very thing. 

Shakily, afraid of the answer, Sehun asked, “Are you two going to separate?”

Chen replied, “Don’t you think that’s the reason Eunji’s with her parents and I’m right here? We had a huge fight right before I came here. I basically gave her an ultimatum. I said we had to keep trying. We had to at least try, and that we owed it to ourselves. And she accused me of trying to control her—control her body. It was … it wasn’t good. So we’re taking a little break now. We’ll see how little in the end, I guess.”

Eunji and Chen couldn’t get a divorce. They just couldn’t. Sehun had known they were perfect for each other for a long time, maybe even before Chen realized. They’d been together so long, and had so much history. They couldn’t just give up on each other. 

“I said it wrong,” Chen broke in suddenly, looking to Sehun. “I was an ass and I know it. I was just frustrated, and I said the words wrong to Eunji. I’m not trying to control her. I’m not trying to force her into anything. I would never presume to tell her what to do with her own body. But I want a baby, Sehun, I want one so badly. I want to be a father. And I don’t know if I can be with a woman who doesn’t at least want to try.”

And that, Sehun understood, was the bottom line. It was just about fatherhood.

“Chen.” Sehun angled himself towards Chen on the chair. “You’re so caught up in your low sperm count. Have you stopped to consider your other options?”

“Like IVF?” Chen asked. “Do you know how expensive that is? And time consuming? Do you know how low the chances of it actually working are, too? We didn’t just stumble our way to this point, Sehun. And it’s not as easy as just throwing ideas out there at the wall and hoping something will stick.”

Fatherhood, Sehun reminded himself. This was ultimately just about fatherhood.

“Chen,” Sehun said curiously, “you just want to experience it, right? To be a father? To hold a child in your arms and know it’s dependent on you for everything, and know that it’s your responsibility and your privilege to raise that child right?”

Chen gave a shaky nod. 

“Then … does it have to be your child biologically?”

Chen looked jarred. “Are you talking about adoption?”

Sehun challenged back, “Did you ever consider that with Eunji? Obviously you talked about IVF, but what about adoption? Do you have an idea how many kids are out there, who desperately need a home, and who would have such an amazing life with you guys if you picked them?”

Numbly, Chen admitted, “We didn’t talk about adoption. We didn’t even think about it.”

Sehun pressed, “Babies get abandoned all the time. Toddlers. Small children. And when there’s nowhere for them to go, they end up in the system. They need homes, Chen. Would it matter to you if your child didn’t share your blood?”

Chen gave a visible pause, and then he only shook his head. 

“Call your wife,” Sehun told him. “Maybe this changes nothing. Maybe Eunji doesn’t want to adopt a kid, or be a mother. Maybe you two just can’t work it out in the end. Who knows, Chen. But can you repeat to me what you said earlier? About what you owe to yourself?”

Chen frowned and asked, “To keep trying?”

Sehun laughed a little and said, “Maybe not in the physical sense anymore, not if Eunji doesn’t want to and you guys are exhausted by a lack of results, but you have to keep going. You have to keep trying, and trying can mean thinking, and talking, and just not giving up.”

Honestly, Chen said, “I don’t think Eunji wants to talk to me right now.”

“Maybe she just needs to hear you say the right things,” Sehun posed. 

Looking the most fragile he ever had, Chen said, “I don’t want this to be the end, Sehun. I don’t want this to be it for us. We’re stronger than this, and better, too. We deserve more than this. But I can’t give up on wanting a family more than just the two of us, not now that I know it’s what I want more than anything else.”

Sehun decided, “Enjoy today, okay? Enjoy time with your friends who are friends, and friends who are family. And then tonight, when you’re getting ready to go to bed, call Eunji. I know she loves you. I get the feeling she’ll pick up the phone for you and listen to what you have to say.”

Pensively, Chen turned back to the Han river and was quiet for some time.

But the passage of time was like a march to the hangman’s noose, for Sehun. People were beginning to trickle in, first Lay and Yiru, then Suho and Emily, then Wei and Xiumin who were an odd pair to Sehun, but nothing Sehun wasn’t willing and ready to support. They had Youri swinging between them and had even managed to get her dressed in the outfit Luhan had particularly purchased for the event—and that naturally Youri had hated.

“Sehun,” Luhan said, just when Sehun’s phone was buzzing to indicate to him how little time he had left before his flight. He appeared at Sehun’s side with a sad look. “It’s getting late.”

Sehun took Luhan by the hand and led him out into a nearby hallway. It was deserted, and almost tucked to the side in a way that meant they wouldn’t be interrupted.

There Sehun took Luhan’s face in his hands tenderly, and kissed him in a forthright way. “I love you,” he told Luhan, desperate for Luhan to know how much. “You’re my everything, and you always have been.”

“You’re going away for five days,” Luhan protested with a small smile, “not five years.”

“I know I’m letting you down,” Sehun pressed on. He rubbed his thumbs slightly against the softness of Luhan’s face. “I said I’d be here every second of every day for this pregnancy, and do everything in my power to prioritize you. I lied then, when I made that promise, even if I didn’t know at the time. And I feel terrible for it.”

“I think,” Luhan assured, leaning into his touch, “we’ve been through much worse than this, Oh Sehun.”

Sehun tilted his head in for another, much longer kiss, letting his hands drift down to Luhan’s bump.

“If I could stay,” Sehun swore, “I would.”

“I won’t let you,” Luhan insisted, hooking his fingers into the belt loops on Sehun’s pants. “You need to do this for your job, and regardless of everything that’s going on with your job right now, it’s your dream. You love what you do. It’s important to you, and you being happy is important to me.”

“This,” Sehun insisted, putting pressure on Luhan’s stomach, “is the most important thing.”

Luhan hooked an arm around the back of Sehun’s neck. “So we deal with this, then. You go to Hong Kong and seal that deal of yours that you put so much into, and that we all believe in. And then you come home to me, and to Youri, and to the baby. You come home to the most important thing.”

Sehun felt his eyes burn and he wrapped himself around Luhan, face pressing into the crook of his neck. “You’re too good to me. You’re too forgiving, and too generous. You are … you’re just amazing.”

“What I am,” Luhan said, “is someone who loves you, and someone who understands a hard choice when he sees it, and knows what sacrifice is. We can endure this, Sehun.”

“We shouldn’t have to,” Sehun said back just as fiercely. He insisted, “I made that promise to you. When we found out you were pregnant, I made that promise. What kind of a man just leaves his family like this? What kind of a man would leave you?”

Luhan used the arm around the back of Sehun’s neck to drag him closer, and say emphatically, “You’re the kind of a man who is hard working, and dedicated, and kind. You’re a good husband, and amazing father, and at the end of the day, you’re the kind of man who gets on a plane, and flies to Hong Kong not because he wants to, but because he has to.”

There weren’t enough words in the world for Sehun to describe Luhan.

“I’ll call you,” Sehun promised, feeling the baby move from where he was pressed up against Luhan. “I’ll call you every morning, and every night. I’ll talk to Youri, too. God, I should have told her I was going.”

“It’s better this way,” Luhan insisted. “She has Wei to distract her, and all her favorite uncles are in town. She’ll be upset for a little, but if you call often, and promise her some wonderful presents from Hong Kong, I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“This will never happen again,” Sehun swore, and was willing to bet his life against it. “Thank you for understanding. Thank you for forgiving. But this is the last time this happens. Never again.”

“You’re going to do great over there,” Luhan said confidently. “I can’t wait for everyone to see how brilliant you are.”

“If I’m brilliant,” Sehun protested, “it’s only because I have you backing me up. And anyway, nothing I’ve ever created will come close to matching the masterpieces you produce. You’re a genius, Luhan, and one day the world is going to recognize that.”

Sehun’s mouth had just turned to catch Luhan’s one more time, when his phone vibrated once more. A quick check revealed a message.

“I’ve got to go,” Sehun said with a sigh. “Chanyeol’s out front. I think he’s scared I’m going to back out at the last second.”

Luhan scoffed, “You’re no coward.”

Sehun wished he had that kind of confidence in himself. 

Luhan went on, “You remembered to pack your suitcase in the trunk before coming here, right? I don’t think you have to time to go all the way home for it.”

“I did,” Sehun insisted, and it struck him in that moment how long it would be before he held Luhan in his arms again, or slept in the same bed as him. They weren’t exactly attached at the hip, but they also never were far from each other.

“Then go,” Luhan said. “Go before I lose my resolve and beg you to stay.”

Once more, with fervor, Sehun said, “I love you, Luhan.” 

Luhan told him back right away, “Not nearly as much as I love you.”

Sehun had to wrench himself away then, too afraid that he’d give in completely and stay. And then he was jogging down to the car to get his suitcase, and then over to where Chanyeol was waiting for him.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” Chanyeol breathed out, looking frazzled.

“I’m here,” Sehun said slowly. 

Chanyeol’s face crumpled even more. “Sorry about this. I know … I know this sucks ass.”

“Let’s just go,” Sehun said, holding tightly to his suitcase. “We can’t miss out plane.”

They were off and to the airport quickly enough. And for once, Seoul cooperated, with there being a steady flow of traffic and plenty of time to get to the airport. They breezed through security, checked their bags, and then just around the time Sehun knew the party was supposed to be starting, he and Chanyeol were buckling into their seats.

“We just gotta get through this,” Chanyeol said. He was pressed to his window seat while Sehun sat next to him with a growing sense of unease.

This was wrong. 

Everything in Sehun told him that what he was doing was wrong. Every intelligent thought in him, and most importantly his gut, all reeked of wrongness. 

He had no place being on the plane. He had no place being away from his family at a critical time. And he certainly had no place asking Luhan, especially after his accident, to be okay with all of it.

Sehun had never been so certain in his life he was making a mistake. 

“Sehun?” Chanyeol asked, watching him oddly.

For the first time, Sehun said out loud, “This is a mistake.”

The last of the passengers were shuffling on the plane as Sehun sat back and closed his eyes. 

“Sehun,” Chanyeol tried again.

It was a mistake, and Sehun felt wretched for it.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Luhan

Suho, with his infinite patience and calming voice, was worth his weight in gold.

Literally.

Luhan was lurking now, angling towards a back room in the building where he and Sehun had rented a hall for their gathering, trying to make sure he could hear what was going on. But he still wanted to keep mostly out of sight, so he didn’t distract either Suho or Youri. 

Further in the room the two of them were seated in two lone chairs near the biggest window the space had to offer, with Suho leaning towards Youri, tilting his iPad in her direction. She was practically lunging off her chair to see it properly, with her tiny feet kicking down in a distracted way.

Her face was still splotchy from crying. That was what Luhan could see best from where he was. Youri’s eyes were still tinted red, and her cheeks were patchy with the color as well. It was all the more proof that even though she was sitting quietly now, moments earlier she’d been screaming bloody murder.

And Youri was not a crier. Not really, and she never had been. She wasn’t he type of child who cried for attention. In a lot of ways, Luhan could tell that Youri found crying ineffective and a waste of time. She cried well enough when she fell and skinned her knees, or when she was frustrated and upset. But she wasn’t a crier for attention grabbing reasons. Honestly, most of the time she should have been crying, she still didn’t.

Youri was also terribly determined and focused. If she fell down, she got right up. Tears were almost a secondary thought for her.

Bu when she did cry, oh did she cry.

And that was what had happened the moment Youri had started searching for Sehun, and had realized that he was gone. By the time Luhan had been trying to tell her that he’d be back after a short trip, she was letting all hell loose.

First and foremost, Youri was independent. She was curious and self-contained. She could keep herself busy for hours at a time, and seemed content with her own adventures built solely on her own imagination.

But when she wanted her parents, when she needed Luhan himself or Sehun, there was no dissuading her.

So naturally she’d started crying at the idea of Sehun being gone for almost a week. And the cries had turned to shouts, which had turned to screams, which had all culminated with Youri throwing herself down on the ground and turning into a veritable monster.

Suho had come sweeping in like a guardian angel, willing to hold her and rock her and shush her until she calmed down enough to take in even breaths and sob out what was wrong.

Now the enemy, Luhan had been forced to confess the entire thing to Suho, and it all ended up feeling terrible and frustrating.

Suho had said, “You should have said something earlier about Sehun leaving,” but Luhan hadn’t know if Suho meant to him, or to Youri.

Now Suho and Youri were in their own world, and Luhan was just thankful the crying had stopped.

He could hear Suho saying, “And look, look here, this is where the plane is going to fly. Follow my finger, all the way over here. That’s a long way, right?”

Youri nodded, bangs falling to her gaze. She pushed away at them absently and asked, “How big is daddy’s plane?”

The baby thundering inside of him, Luhan rubbed at his side. His concern for Youir had gotten the baby all worked up, and Luhan’s kidney was taking the brunt of it.

“Of course it’s big,” Suho said evenly. “Do you remember when you and your parents came to see me in New York? You flew on a big plane then.”

“No,” Youri said with awe, shaking her head.

Suho insisted, “Well, it’s a very big plane, I promise you. And it goes very high in the sky.”

Youri put a serious hand on Suho’s knee and leveled, “But the plane comes back, right?”

Suho lowered his head to bump his forehead against her’s gently. “Of course the plane comes back. Your daddy is going to be back home before you even realize it.And if you’re very good while he’s away, I promise you that we can fly on a plane together soon.”

Youri’s hand shot up into the air. “Way up here?”

“Higher,” Suho insisted.

Quietly, from his side, a soft, female voice interrupted to say, “He’s really very good with her, isn’t he?”

Luhan turned to see Suho’s girlfriend, standing not too far away. She too had a good angle on what was taking place in the room.

“He’s always been good with her,” Luhan said lowly, turning away from the scene as not to interrupt. 

Emily gave a slight nod, a pensive look on her face.

Tentatively, Luhan asked, “Are you okay? Everyone is being nice to you, aren’t they?” Luhan would flail anyone who was mean to her, especially since she had proven time and time again that she was caring and considerate.

“Everyone has been very nice,” she assured. Then she questioned, “They have a close relationship, don’t they?”

Luhan wasted no time replying, “Suho was the first person to want Youri.” He fought past the lump in his throat and admitted, “Even before I was sure I wanted her, Suho did. He was always there for me when I was pregnant with her, and next to myself and Sehun, Suho has been the strongest example in her life of what a man truly looks like. A good man.”

Something pulled at the corners of her mouth, and she let slip, “I hope he’s as good with her as he is with our own child.”

Eyes going wide, Luhan asked, “Are you …”

She blurted out something in English with an adorably awkward laugh and said to him in Korean, “No, no. Definitely not pregnant.” She needed another second to compose herself. “There’s no baby for us yet.”

Carelessly, Luhan commented, “I’m not sure why you aren’t married yet.”

Something shifted on her face, something less guarded emerged, and she looked almost a little sad.

“Emily?”

She wet her lips and admitted, “He asked.”

Luhan’s eyes jetted down to her ring finger that was bare.

She surprised him then by saying, “I turned him down.”

Luhan felt floored. “You said no?” She’d said no? “You actually said no when he asked?”

“He asked months ago,” she said sadly, and now Luhan knew what the look on her face meant. It was regret. “And it was wonderful, you know? It was romantic. He was very American about it.”

“American?”

Emily nodded. “The way I understand it, here in Korea an engagement is something more formal, or scheduled even. It occurs after both parties and families have already decided to get married.”

Luhan laughed a little and said, “Sehun and I didn’t really have an engagement. But then again, we did things out of order. And by the time we decided it was the moment to get married, we just sort of did it. No wait.”

Fondness was pouring out of Emily when she said, “He took me to my favorite restaurant, and he got us the best table in the house. He’d brought me roses before that. And then he gave this long speech about how he saw our future, and what he hoped it would be. Then a waiter brought out desert with the ring.” Her eyes skittered away abashedly. “He proposed, and I said no.”

Luhan had to ask, “Why?”

Her Korean was still shaky, but he could understand her completely when she said, “Because I was scared. That’s the only answer there is to give. I was scared. So I said no, and told him I wasn’t ready. I told him I didn’t think we were ready as a couple. That was a lie, but I said it anyway, because I was scared.”

“Are you less scared now?” Luhan wondered.

Her head tilted a little and she supposed, “I don’t think so. I’m just as scared things won’t work out, or too much will change, or we’ll end up like my parents in a bitter divorce case that last the better part of three years. But I love him more than I’m scared of the bad that might happen. So I’m kind of hoping he’ll ask again.”

Luhan looked back to where Suho had abandoned the iPad that he’d been showing to Youri moments ago. Now Suho was fixing her hair, settling her barrettes back into place, and smoothing down her bangs. He was talking in a low voice about how pretty she looked, and how much of a princess she was.

Youri declared, “I’m a monster princess!”

And Suho indulged, “You’re the best monster princess I ever saw.”

“I really want him to ask again,” Emily said.

Luhan cracked a smile in her direction and said, “Suho’s pretty much head over heels in love with you. You’re the one for him. I can tell. So can Sehun. So if I were you, I wouldn’t be too worried about Suho changing his mind about wanting to marry you.”

Pensively, Emily asked, “So just be patient? Wait it out?”

Luhan arched an eyebrow. “Who says you have to wait for him to ask you. You love him, don’t you? If he asked now, you’d say yes, right? So don’t stand on circumstance or tradition. You should ask him.”

“I should ask him,” she repeated slowly. “I should ask him to marry me.”

Luhan asked, “What says you can’t?”

To that, she didn’t seem to have a good answer.

In the room, Luhan could hear Youri asking, “Will daddy bring me a present?”

“Of course he will,” Suho returned effortlessly. Then he scooped Youri up into his arms and was heading directly towards Luhan.

“Thank you,” Luhan said when Suho was close enough. These were the moments when Luhan was reminded of how difficult it was having Suho far away, and not just on Sehun. “She wasn’t going to calm down for me.”

“You’re a big girl, right?” Suho asked, hitching Youri up a little on his hip.

Youri gave a deep nod.

“It wasn’t anything that couldn’t be handed,” Suho told Luhan. “You okay?” It was a loaded question. 

“I’m fine,” Luhan said instinctively. 

Suho made to say something else, to probably call him out on his generic answer, when Youri broke in, “Miss Emily, I’m gonna fly in a plane. Have you?”

“How about we give you a second,” Suho said quietly to Luhan. “I know you’ve been going a million miles a second for probably too long. Emily and I will take Youri into the main room, I think Baekhyun, Taeyeon and Ahra are here already, and you give yourself a moment to breathe.”

Luhan hadn’t known how badly he needed that until Suho offered. 

Youri slid down to the ground and held a hand out to Emily as the older woman said, “I have flow before, Youri.”

“Where?” Youri asked, head back at a comical angle to talk to her. 

“I flew to get here,” Emily said, taking Youri down the hall.

Suho waited until they were some distance to ask again, “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s okay if you’re not, you know.”

Inherently, Luhan knew they were talking about Sehun. He told Suho, “Sehun will be back soon enough. I think I can survive a week without him, even with my daughter having a meltdown.”

Suho chuckled. “She’s getting older now, and better at controlling her emotions, but it’s moments like these when I realize how little she still is.”

Luhan stared after her. “She’s growing up fast, that’s true. But you’re right, she’s still young.”

Suho’s hand grazed his stomach and said, “I can hardly believe this is baby number two now. You and Sehun are about to have your hands very, very full.”

Cracking a smile, Luhan hoped that Emily took his advice and asked Suho to marry her, instead of waiting. 

“I just need a second,” Luhan promised. “I’ll be coming right after you. Make sure the whole room hasn’t dissolved into chaos, will you?”

Suho winked at him. “No promises, right?”

When Suho turned the corner and went fully out of sight, Luhan let himself lean on a nearby wall. He took several breaths to try and compose himself, and for the first time in a while, had a moment just to himself.

He didn’t wait too long, however. It was probably twenty minutes away from when the party was supposed to start, and Luhan had it on good authority that the last of the food would be there any second. Luhan desperately wanted to make a short speech before everyone started the process of falling into a food coma.

He was nearly back to the main room when Luhan’s ears caught the sound of Xiumin’s voice. It was soft, and Luhan could have missed it easily. But there was a vulnerability to the sound of his voice, and something akin to trepidation. Luhan was following the sound of it before he even made a conscious decision to.

The building that Luhan had rented the party hall in was large, and almost like a maze with the different hallways that branched out and led to dozens of other rooms. It was so expansive that Luhan nearly lost the direction of Xiumin’s voice. 

He was almost ready to give up when he heard it again.

Xiumin wasn’t alone, when Luhan found him. He was tucked away in a back room, too, and Wei was with him.

Feeling even more like a lurker than before, Luhan hesitate outside of the cracked door, watching the way Wei was leaning into Xiumin’s personal space, the shorter of the two of them already backed up against the wall. Wei’s impressive height made it look like he was bamboozling Xiumin into the position, but it wasn’t as if Xiumin was incapable of defending himself or warding off unwanted position. In fact, if Luhan had to put money down between Xiumin and Wei, he was going with Xiumin.

Smaller details gave the situation away, too. A second later and Luhan saw the way Wei’s hand was cupping the side of Xiumin’s face tenderly, but certainly without any force. And those were Xiumin’s fingers gripping at Wei’s waist, definitely pull him in and not pushing him away.

“I’m not good at this,” Xiumin said, voice shaking a bit. It was the most uncertain Luhan had heard Xiumin sound in a long, long time. “I’m not even sure what this is.”

Wei, replied, “This? Us?”

Xiumin huffed.

Luhan took a half step backwards, not wanting to interrupt. This was a private conversation, and he didn’t want to embarrass anyone by being caught listening.

“Of course this. Us,” Xiumin said sharply. “This thing we’re doing. I don’t know how to do it.”

“Trust me,” Wei said, “you’re doing just fine.”

Luhan held still when Xiumin nearly snapped, “Stop, just stop. Okay. Stop making light of this. Something is happening here, something is happening between us, and I don’t know what it is. But you making jokes about this isn’t helping. I’m having real feelings for you and I’m standing here trying to tell you that I don’t know if I’m just wasting my time with someone who only wants to have a good time, of if this is the start of something real.”

Wei didn’t have a smart answer then.

“I mean it,” Xiumin continued, this time much more softly. “I don’t know how to do any of this very well. I don’t date. I don’t … take chances on people.”

Suddenly, Wei said, “I deflect.” Luhan could see where Wei’s hand was stroking along the curve of Xiumin’s jaw. “That’s what I do. I deflect with sarcasm whenever something gets too heavy. And I do it all to cover the fact that I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. This included.”

Luhan knew Wei well enough to hear the honesty in his voice immediately.

“Then this is something we’re doing?” Xiumin asked. 

Laughing wryly, Wei told him, “I’m kind of a serial dater. Don’t tell Luhan, okay? He’ll turn those dad eyes on me and I’ll never live it down. But yeah, I’m a serial dater. I date like crazy, a new person every couple of months.”

Roughly, Xiumin asked, “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

Wei ignored him to say, “I date so much because I’m afraid to let people get close. I’m afraid to put my heart on the line and get it broken.”

“Oh,” Xiumin breathed out.

“But you,” Wei said, pushing himself further down into Xiumin’s personal space. “You’re the first person I haven’t wanted to run from since …well, since ever. Minseok. You … you make me feel like I’m strong enough to risk everything.”

Luhan took another step away. This definitely wasn’t a conversation he had any right imposing on.

“I work a lot,” Xiumin said almost defensively. 

Wei countered, “I’m in Korea for six months for sure, but I don’t know about after. Maybe I’ll have a reason to stick around. Maybe I’ll need to get out.”

Luhan was almost too far away when he heard Xiumin say, “Then this is what we’re doing? We’re giving it a go? We’re trying?”

“Actually,” Wei said, “I’m kissing you. Yep. I’m sure that’s what I’m doing right now. I mean after? After we’re totally doing this thing with us. But right now, I’m definitely kissing you.”

A smile bust onto Luhan’s face and he took himself as quickly from the location as quickly as possible. He didn’t think there was any way knowing what would happen with Wei and Xiumin in the future. Maybe it was just a fling. Maybe they’d end up not working out. Maybe they’d end up married. 

No matter what, Luhan though they certainly deserved the chance they were willing to take in the moment, and Luhan was determined to support them all the way through until the end. 

“There you are!” Tao said loudly when Luhan made it into the main room. 

“Here I am,” Luhan returned to him with a grin. 

He let his eyes sweep the room. Most everyone was present and accounted for, and Luhan almost couldn’t believe that he’d done it. He’d managed to get an amazing amount of people, who all led hectic lives, in one place at the same time. And they were all chatting happy with each other, getting along like there’d never been any passage of time at all. 

“I was promised food,” Tao said accusatory. “There is going to be food, right?”

Luhan replied, “Of course there’s going to be food. I just want you to focus and actually pay attention, before you start inhaling it all. Deal?”

Tao shrugged easily enough. “Deal.”

Luhan wove his way through the crowd to get a better look at Youri, after that. She and Ahra, under Baekhyun’s supervision, had been set up at a special table all their own, and were busy using crayons to color across sheets of paper and thankfully not the table itself.

“Not bad,” Baekhyun remarked to him, more kindness in his voice than Luhan though he probably wanted to shine through. So many years later and Baekhyun was still a tough shell most of the time. “You just might be some kind of miracle worker. 

“No,” Luhan laughed, “just determined.” He looked from Baekhyun to Taeyeon and told them, “Thanks for finding the time to come.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Taeyeon insisted.

Baekhyun shrugged. “We had the time.” Taeyeon pinched him hard, and Baekhyun told her sharply, “Of course we wanted to come. Tae, he knows we wanted to come.” Baekhyun looked to him. “You know we wanted to come, right?”

“I know you wanted to come,” Luhan parroted back. Baekhyun looked triumphant, and Taeyeon just rolled her eyes at their antics. 

Just under his breath, Baekhyun added, “It’s not bad at all.”

Luhan counted that as a win.

Five minutes later Wei and Xiumin were slipping into the room, lips red likely from kissing, and the last stragglers were just behind them.

“Sorry, sorry,” Chen said, sneaking his way into the room after Luhan had finally gotten the courage up to address everyone present. He slid into a seat between Kris and Kai. He said by way of excuse, “I had to make a call. An important one.” He didn’t elaborate after that, and Luhan didn’t push.

A frown on his face, D.O., who had barely been able to confirm at the last second that he could make it, asked, “Where’s Sehun?”

“You’re right,” Kris voiced, looking around.

All eyes went to Luhan, and it felt as if his stomach had given out. He wanted to speak—to say anything, but all of the sudden his words were gone. And his heart was racing now. 

Of course it was Suho to the rescue. 

In a nonchalant way, Suho pointed out, “Chanyeol’s gone too. It’s deliberate. I spoke to the both of them earlier, and Luhan as well. There was an emergency at work that Sehun and Chanyeol had no choice but to attend to. They’re going to miss this meeting.”

Baekhyun snorted loudly. “Sehun goes through all this trouble to get us together, and he can’t even show up.”

“He had to go,” Luhan said, and he hadn’t realized how sharpand downright mean his tone was, until Baekhyun was jerking back in his seat a little with an apology.

Suho reiterated, “It was an emergency.”

“He regrets not being here,” Luhan said, finding a calmer tone. 

After a few awkward moments of silence, Kai spoke up, “Come on guys, this is a good thing. Have you seen how much Chanyeol eats? He’s a monster. A human garbage disposal. And Sehun isn’t far behind in that category.”

An easy chuckle passed among them, and Luhan felt infinitely better. 

“It’s okay,” Suho said, looking Luhan dead in the eyes. “It’s just fine.”

At that, Luhan cleared his throat and said, “Before the food gets here, I just want to say a couple of words to you all.”

He took a look out at his best friends, his family, and the people who meant the most to him in the world. They were spread out all over the place, and had lives and families of their own, but they were still the same people who had been there as pillars of support in a trying time. And Luhan loved them all dearly.

“Sehun and I talk about you all more often than you probably think,” Luhan started out, encourage by the attention on him. “When things are quiet, and we have a couple minutes to ourselves, we think about you guys. And more importantly, we think about what you mean to us.”

Baekhyun warned, “Don’t you start crying.”

One table away, Xiumin said, “He can cry if he wants. Let him say his peace.”

“I’m not going to cry,” Luhan said tersely, and hoped that wasn’t a lie. He cleared his throat. “Sehun and I wouldn’t have made it without all of you here in the room. Separately, and when we first got together.”

Actually, it looked like Tao was the one who was going to cry.

“Xiumin,” Luhan said, looking directly to him. “You got me through those first few months I was here in Korea. You were the only thing that kept me going, some months. And then you introduced me to people who’d come to be more family than just friends. Sehun feels the same way about you, Baekhyun, Suho, all of you. When he was at his lowest, you held him up. You literally kept him alive when he didn’t want to be.”

Suho confirmed, “He would have done the same for us, no questions asked.”

“Of course,” Luhan agreed, “But it’s still worth saying, all the same. And when Sehun and I were still trying to figure out how to make us work as a family, with Youri, we all learned how to pull together. We all became stronger because of each other.”

Luhan felt indebted to the people he was looking out at, and it was the best kind of debt to be in.

Luhan finished by saying, “I know we’ve all moved on, in one way or another. Some of us don’t live here anymore. Some of us are married, some of us have kids, and some of us will only continue to drift further. But you’re the most important people in the world to me. You’re my family, and I’m so grateful that you came today. Thank you.”

A whoop of applause exploded in the room, with Kai shouting, “Encore!”, Kris demanding an Oscar nomination, and Lay getting to his feet with his applause.

“Stop,” Luhan said, blushing a deep red. “I’m done talking now, so just stop.”

“Tell me someone got that on their camera,” Baekhyun said loudly. 

“I have tissue over here,” Wei announced, holding up white napkins. “When the tears start, form a line over here by me.”

Suho did get up then, crossed over to Luhan, and hugged him tightly. Just between the two of them he told Luhan, “You talk about how much we mean to you, but when you look at these people around you, I hope you understand how much you mean to us.”

Luhan hugged him back.

Desperate to get things back on track, Luhan sent the order for the food to be brought in, and the gathering dissolved into the giant dinner party he’d always hoped for. 

Sehun and Chen, earlier in the day, had gotten the tables set up in a U shape, and Luhan liked that they could all see each other as they talked and ate and laughed. Youri and Ahra, for the most part, were content enough at their own table, and Luhan let himself relax enough to start to enjoy himself.

The food was good but the company, of course, was better.

Luhan liked hearing all the different voices mix in together, half a dozen smaller conversations going at once. He liked being able to drift from D.O.’s stories about the newest production project he was working on, to Lay and Yiru talking about the home they’d purchased recently in anticipation of starting a family the following year. 

“What about you,” Xiumin said, looking to Wei.

“What about me?” Wei asked back in a flirtatious way.

Xiumin ignored him and turned to Luhan to ask, “Has he mentioned what his big editorial piece is about, exactly? Because I’ve been thinking about it, and he never said.”

Luhan frowned. “Actually, you know, you’re right.” He poked an accusing finger in Wei’s direction. “I’ve asked you before, you know. I’ve asked you a couple of times, and each time I ask, you skirt the question.”

“What can I say,” Wei offered up, “I’m a man of mystery.”

“Fess up,” Luhan ordered. “What exactly are you working on.”

Wei managed to drag out answering by stuffing a huge bite of sweet and sour pork into his mouth. But then eventually he did chew and swallow, and then told Luhan, “You, actually.”

“Me?”

When Luhan looked to Xiumin, he looked just as surprised and unsure.

“Well,” Wei decided, “not you specifically, but kind of? Look, it started out as an editorial piece, something that I was going to reseach for a couple of months, write up, submit, and then move along from. But my editor has gotten some real traction on it with his superior, and they’re thinking more along the lines of a book, maybe even an optioned documentary.”

“That’s nice,” Luhan said slowly, “but that still doesn’t answer any of my questions.”

Wei revealed, “I’m writing about blended families. Specifically, I’m writing about the experience of non-Koreans, coming to Korea, falling in love, and getting married, and bridging the cultural gap. So technically, I took the assignment because I thought of you, Luhan, and the incredible experience you’ve had. And in part, I took the assignment because it sounded exciting and interesting.”

“That’s amazing,” Luhan breathed out.

“I’ve been commissioned already for a follow-up piece,” Wei revealed. “If everything goes well, the company wants a piece about the children of these ethnically mixed families.”

Instinctively Luhan’s gaze went to Youri. 

“Like her,” Wei agreed, following his gaze. “It can’t be easy to grow up a child of two cultures. There’s got to be a push and pull. But in a lot of way, kids like Youri are incredibly lucky. Youri is going to grow up immersed in more than one amazing culture. She’ll get to belong to something twice over, and she’ll have even more options for who she wants to be when she grows up, or what she wants to do.”

“Then,” Luhan decided, “I can’t wait to read what your write.”

“Hey,” Wei said, wiggling his eyebrows at Luhan, “if this thing ends up being a full-fledged book, will you do the cover art?”

“I’m pretty sure you won’t have any control over the cover art on your book,” Luhan pointed out. “I’ve got a friend who works at a publishing house. Authors rarely have control over that.”

Wei waved his concerns off. “You let me worry about taking my bosses into that. Come on, Luhan, how long ago did we promise each other we would collaborate? Ten years? More?”

“We thought we’d grow up and write managa together,” Luhan said flatly. “Those are the kinds of dreams children have.”

“Pinky swear it.” Wei held up the digit. “Come on, Luhan. Pinky swear it to me. if I manage to get a whole book written on this subject in the next six months, you swear to me you’ll do the cover art.”

“You’re a baby,” Luhan sighed out, but reached over to hook their pinkies together.

“Speaking of babies,” Baekhyun broke in, and Luhan hadn’t even been aware he had been following the conversation, “now’s the time to pay up on that baby name.”

Luhan pointed out, “This isn’t my baby shower.”

“No,” Baekhyun agreed, “but most everyone in this room won’t be around for that thing. So how about you just fess up now to what you and Sehun decided on. Ah, and don’t even try saying that you didn’t decide months ago what your son’s name is going to be.”

“Why do you care so much?” Luhan accused back, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Because,” Taeyeon broke in, leaning her chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder in an adorable way, “he doesn’t want our baby’s name to conflict with yours.”

Luhan blinked slowly. “Your … baby’s …”

It was Chen who shouted congratulations loudly, and then hugs were going around like the flu. The room was practically roaring with happiness then, and Luhan continued to be grateful that wonderful friends like Baekhyun and Taeyeon were showing no signs of so much as thinking of leaving Seoul.

“You guys do this on purpose, don’t you,” Tao accused, looking between Luhan and Baekhyun.

Laughing loudly, Luhan protested, “We absolutely do not.” But he thought it was rather sweet that their daughters were so close in age. And their second born children would be, too. Taeyeon didn’t look to be showing at all, so it was definitely too early to know if she was having a boy or otherwise, but Luhan kind of hoped she was. It was nice having Ahra for Youri to play with, and it would be nicer if Taeyeon had a boy for Luhan’s son to be best friends with.

“Hey, hey!” Baekhyun shouted loudly. “No letting Luhan get distracted from the subject at hand.” He swung towards Luhan. “You tell us what that baby’s name is now, or we’re not letting you leave this room.”

“Really?” Luhan asked, more curious than feeling threatened.

D.O. promised, “Not really. But come on, tell us.”

Luhan gave them a grimace and said honestly, “It feels wrong to say it without Sehun here.”

“Why?” Lay questioned. 

“Because …”

Because, Luhan couldn’t tell them, he and Sehun had fretted so much over the baby’s name, trying to walk a fine line between past and present, respect and being unable to let go, homage and distaste.

“Because,” Suho spoke up, too confident in his speech, “they named the baby after my brother. At least partially.”

There was a cry of outrage at the idea that Suho knew and the rest of them. 

But of course Suho knew. How could they have not run the idea by Suho before deciding?It was a matter of respect, above all else. And also because they trusted Suho to be able to keep quiet.

At his side, Emily asked quietly, “Jaehyuk?”

“We wanted to pay our respect,” Luhan spoke up, commanding the attention of the entire room. “We wanted a name that did that, while still giving the baby his own identity.”

At first, they’d kind of thought that it was in poor taste to put any part of Jae’s name in with their son’s. But the more they’d talked about it, the more right it felt. 

Luhan had always encouraged Sehun not to lose touch with his past. Luhan accepted, respected, and underststood how important Jaehyuk continued to be to Sehun. Jae had been Sehun’s first great love, and if it weren’t for him, Luhan never would have married the version of Sehun that he had. Sehun often claimed that Jae had changed him, and for the better. 

Luhan and Sehun still took Youri up to see Jae and Seoyoung’s gravesite as frequently as they could manage. And the older Youri got, the more she was starting to understand what had come before her.

Jae was crucial to everything that was their family.

Carefully, Wei asked, “You were okay with that, Luhan?”

Luhan had worried once about having to compete with a ghost for the affection and love of his husband. But that had long since passed. Now Jae was just a part of Sehun’s past, and Luhan knew that a future only worked if a person was at peace with their past. 

“I am,” Luhan stated honestly. 

“Soooo,” Tao drew out.

Luhan gave them all a wide smile. He reached for a napkin and swiped the pen lingering behind D.O.’s ear. He scratched out hangul across it. “We’re naming the baby Kyungjae.” He held the paper up for them to see. 

Kyungjae. They’d decided on the name months ago, and then hoarded it like gold. They hadn’t even told Suho right away, after they’d managed to agree on it. 

But Suho hadn’t even hesitated to give his approval when he’d heard it. 

“It’s cute,” Suho said, voicing his support of it. “And better than that, it’s respectful.”

Luhan rubbed at his stomach. His little Kyungjae. 

“Oh,” he added, lowering the napkin to add Chinese characters. “This is his Chinese name. Chaoxiang. We thought it was only fair, after all. One Chinese name for one Korean. But like Youri, I’m sure he’ll go by Kyungjae for a long time.”

“Hear that,” Taeyeon said, poking Baekhyun in the side. “Kyungjae. We need to pick out a name that doesn’t clash with that.”

“This is ridiculous,” Baekhyun protested. “How do you have more influence over my baby’s name, Luhan, than I do?”

Luhan breathed out a deep breath of relief. It felt good to let the name out. He’d gotten so used to not using the name, not even thinking of it—out of fear he might slip up and say it to the wrong person, that he hadn’t even realized how much of a burden the name had become.

But the name was out there now, and it felt great. 

Xiumin came to stand at his side and asked, “Kyungjae, yeah?”

“You like it?” Luhan asked, all the sudden nervous. Xiumin’s opinion meant everything to him. 

Xiumin didn’t leave him waiting for long, before assuring, “Don’t worry, Luhan. I like it a lot.”

“Well,” Luhan said with a chuckle, “that’s a relief. I told Sehun, if you didn’t like it, we’d have to change it immediately.”

“Liar,” Xiumin whispered. 

Luhan found his hand discretely and squeezed.

Maybe not so much of a liar. 

For another hour and a half Luhan enjoyed the best company he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. They were loud and blunt with each other, chatting about anything and everything, and Luhan felt utterly at home. 

At some point, Youri and Ahra became cranky and fussy, and then the both of them ended curled up under their own table, sleeping soundly. 

Desert came after the meal, even though most of them were stuffed, and then the conversation got quieter.

“I miss this,” Lay confessed quietly. “I miss all of you.”

Kai gave a nod, just as Tao said, “Me, too.”

“This was worth the wait, though,” Chen seemed to decide. “I’d wait a decade more if I had to, if it meant I got to share another meal with all of you.”

Suho corrected, “With Chanyeol and Sehun, too.”

At the mention, Luhan felt a pang of hurt, but he pushed it aside quickly enough. Sehun would come home, and fast enough Chanyeol would be showing up at their house on Sunday afternoons to eat lunch with them and play with Youri.

Eventually, in an expected way, the day began to wind down. With promises to call and visit while still in town, people began to trickle out. Kris went first, then Lay and Kai and Chen, then the rest.

Before long, Baekhyun, carrying a sleeping Ahra, told Luhan, “Taeyeon and I should get home.Or do you need me to stay and help with the cleanup?”

“I’ve got this,” Xiumin said, passing him by with a trash bag already in hand.

“Go,” Luhan urged. 

Fifteen minutes after that, Suho as walking his ninth circuit of the room with Youri in his arms as she woke slowly. Luhan was gathering up stray cups as Xiumin held open a trash bag that Wei was tossing things into, and Emily was placing furniture back in order.

“I’m glad we did this today,” Luhan told him, voice soft. “I thought I was the one who needed it—maybe the only one. But I think we all did in some way.”

“Absolutely,” Xiumin said. “And I think—”

Before Xiumin could say any more the door to the room slammed open. Luhan gave a shout of fright and dropped the plate he’d been holding.

Stunned, he looked to Sehun who was standing in the doorway.

He thought for a second he was hallucinating.

But no, it was Sehun.

It was Sehun, looking a little frantic in the face, breathing hard, sweating, not moving as if he was waiting for permission to enter.

“Sehun?” Suho asked in disbelief.

Behind Sehun, Chanyeol came to a screeching stop from a run, gasping for air himself, barking out, “You crazy asshole!”

“Luhan,” Sehun said gently, with only eyes for him and nothing else in the world. “Am I too late?”

“You’re never too late,” Luhan promised, and a second later Sehun was flying to his side to wrap him up in loving arms.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Wei said with some kind of awe.

“I couldn’t go,” Sehun promised, then he was kissing Luhan hard and in a desperate, needy way. 

“No, seriously,” Luhan heard Wei say again. “I really don’t know what’s going on.”

Luhan certainly didn’t know either. But it also didn’t seem like it really mattered. Because Sehun was there, in his arms, and his kisses still felt like they completed Luhan. 

Everything else kind of felt like it could wait.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Sehun

In the end, it had gone like this:

Sehun, for all his reservations and guilt, had been willing to go through with his obligations to his job, and specifically his assignment in Hong Kong. He was on the plane. He had his presentation prepped and ready to go, and Chanyeol was with him to offer support and encouragement. 

Sehun had been ready to make the flight.

But he’d known, deep in his gut and in the way that mattered the most, that he was making a mistake.

Luhan wasn’t incapable of handling himself. And in fact, Luhan was more independent than Sehun thought his nerves could take at times. Neither was the pregnancy going badly. Sehun still worried, of course he still worried, but this second pregnancy was nothing like the first. It was going much more smoothly, and Sehun had allowed himself to relax a little over the months.

On top of all of that, their friends were in town. Some were staying longer than others, but all of them would be there for the next couple of days. That meant built in support for Luhan while Sehun was away. And Sehun knew Suho would still be in town, when he got back from Hong Kong.

But it was wrong.

Sehun had sworn, to himself and to Luhan, that he wasn’t going to be the kind of husband and father that some Korean men were forced to become. When he’d taken the offered promotion, he’d sworn on his life that he wasn’t going to drift from his family, and prioritize his work, and go on business trips.

He’d literally sworn to Luhan he wasn’t going to be the man who spent more nights sleeping in his office, than sleeping at home. 

Not to mention, no matter how delicate Luhan was not, he had been involved in a car accident. That had rattled Luhan and Sehun equally. Their baby was okay. He was perfectly fine, actually, but the doctors were still advising Luhan to take it easy. Sehun wanted to be there, to rub Luhan’s feet, and make a grocery store run for him at three in the morning when he was craving seaweed ice cream, and pamper him. Sehun wanted to do all the heavy lifting. He wanted to simply be there for anything and everything Luhan needed.

Even six days away from Luhan, after such an accident, felt like far, far too much. 

“You okay?” Chanyeol had asked as he buckled himself into place. “It’s not that long of a flight, you know.”

All Sehun could think about, after Luhan, was Youri. 

Youri was his most precious treasure. She was what lit up his world like a thousand-watt lightbulb, and it was for her future, that Sehun did everything in his power to provide for her. Whether she wanted to be an astronaut when she grew up, or a beautician, or a pizza deliverer, Sehun was going to be there to support her.

So, the idea that Luhan’s parents were poking around her, made Sehun want to hyperventilate. 

He felt so ashamed of himself, willing to leave the country when that was so uncertain. Luhan had already started crafting a formal letter of reply to his parents, hopefully one that would be stern and state unequivocally that they’d never get their hands on Youri. But what if something happened while he was gone?

Luhan’s parents were dirty. They used dirty tactics to get what they wanted, and they weren’t afraid to lie or steal or trick someone along the way. What if Sehun went to Hong Kong, and he came back to something terrible?

What kind of a father was Sehun to take that kind of risk until he knew for sure that Youri was heavily protected?

So he’d said, just one more time, “This is wrong.”

Chanyeol had replied, “You’re really starting to freak me out with that.”

Sehun thought he sure as hell hadn’t seen anything yet.

In a flurry of action, more desperate than anything else, Sehun undid his seatbelt, reached up for his carry on, and stared barging his way off the plane.

“What are you doing?!” Chanyeol shouted after him.

Several flight attendants tried to stop him, hands out, calling to him, “Sir? Sir? You can’t disembark right now. Sir!”

Sehun ignored them all, practically falling out of the plane, onto the ramp that led to the terminal, breathing hard.

He couldn’t go to Hong Kong. What had he been thinking?

No matter what the price he was destined to pay was, nothing was worth abandoning his family during a time of need. Nothing was worth leaving Luhan behind, or Youri.

He was not going to Hong Kong.

With shakings hands, he fumbled for his phone, fingers too big, and feeling far too uncoordinated. 

“Sehun!”

Chanyeol pushed his way past the last flight attendant with a red face.

“What the hell are you doing?” Chanyeol demanded.

“I can’t leave,” Sehun said, managing to hit the right button on the phone. He started ambling his way down the ramp to the terminal, ignoring the airport workers who were watching him with wide eyes of shock.

“What do you mean you can’t leave?” Chanyeol asked, going pale and looking as if he were on the verge of a panic attack himself.

As the phone rang, Sehun told Chanyeol sharply, and without compromise, “I don’t care what happens to my job, Chanyeol. I don’t care if they fire me. I’ll work anywhere and do anything to support my family. But I’m not going to leave them behind. I’m not going to spend the next six months flying in and out of the country, when I should be with my family. And I sure as hell am not going to risk missing the birth of my son, selling our project to a picky client in Hong Kong. I’m not, Chanyeol.”

“This is crazy,” Chanyeol said, huffing after him. They broke into the main terminal where their departure gate was. “You’re going to get fired. Oh, god, I’m going to get fired.”

Almost angrily, Sehun told him, “Get back on the plane then.”

“Without you?”

The line clicked over, and Sehun put all of his attention into saying, “This is Oh Sehun. There’s been an issue.”

“Fired,” Chanyeol bemoaned. “I’m going to get fired.”

Twenty minutes later Sehun was sliding into a taxi, Chanyeol behind him, and they were headed back to Seoul.

“You could have gotten back on the plane,” Sehun told him in the taxi. “I didn’t make you come with me.”

“No,” Chanyeol agreed, still hiding his face in his hands. He had been for some time. “But you’re my idiot partner. Where you go, I go, and apparently, that’s to the unemployment line.”

Chanyeol’s loyalty was more that commendable. And Sehun swore in that moment, that if or when they lost their jobs, he’d do his best to get Chanyeol in at any other place in the city, deserving of his talent. And if it was at all possible, Sehun was willing to take all of the blame. 

“I couldn’t stay on that plane,” Sehun had said to him once more, desperate for Chanyeol to understand.

And in his own way, Sehun thought he might have.

It was back to Seoul after that, to the room they’d rented out for the party near the Han river, and to an astonished looking Luhan.

Hours later, Sehun was home now. He was back in the house he shared with Luhan, safely tucked away with his husband in their bedroom, a sleeping Youri sprawled out across his lap.

It felt right.

As wrong as leaving had felt, this felt equally as right.

“I thought,” Luhan said quietly, “she was going to burst a blood vessel when she learned that you had to go away.” He was laying propped up on a long pillow that he needed now to sleep comfortably. And while he did look sleepy, he didn’t look close to actually falling asleep. Sehun was glad.

“Yeah,” Sehun said just as softly. “I made a mistake.” He rubbed his hand along Youri’s back, feeling it rise and fall steadily. Her body was half throw over his legs, and her face was mashed into the blankets.He could barely even see her face with the way her hair had fanned out around her, and it was all kinds of adorable.

And to be fair, she had started out in her bedroom. With Luhan watching from the doorway, Sehun had tucked her in, read two full books to her, and then stayed until she started to doze. But twenty minutes after that, with Luhan and Sehun tucked away in their own room, she’d come clambering right up onto their bed, only to fall asleep again.

Sehun was inclined to let her stay through the night, ready to keep her as close as allowed. 

“I’m not convinced coming back here, wasn’t the mistake,” Luhan replied.

Feeling confident, Sehun shook his head. “You don’t understand. Sitting on that plane…I knew I couldn’t leave. Staying on it would have been a mistake. God, I could barely breathe sitting there.”

Luhan reached over Youri’s sleeping form to find Sehun’s hand and squeeze it hard. He admitted, “The selfish part of me is glad you’re here.” He sighed. “The realistic part of me wonders how long our savings is going to have to keep us afloat.”

Careful not to jostle Youri too much, Sehun leaned towards Luhan and kissed his brow gently. “I’ll talk to Suho tomorrow morning. First thing. I’ll talk to him about pulling some strings, or cashing in some favors, to get me set up at a new job asap. Don’t worry, I won’t let my mistake affect this family.”

Luhan’s head tilted just enough to the side so they could share a real kiss.

Afterwards, Luhan said, “You know I joke, but we’ve got a pretty decent savings built up. You don’t need to go rushing into a new job, if you even lose the one you have now.”

Snorting loudly, Sehun assured, “Oh, I’m more than confident that I’m going to get called into my boss’s office tomorrow, just so he can scream at me, maybe throw something at me, and then tell me I have fifteen minutes to clean out my office.”

Luhan winced.

“I knew that was coming when I got off that plane,” Sehun said, refusing to back down from the choice he’d made.

Luhan pointed out, “We don’t have to dip into our savings right away, either. Sehun, I’m certainly no Picasso, but my paintings sell well enough. And I’ve got a half dozen of them just sitting around right now. I could sell those to buy us some time, before you go back to work.”

“Luhan,” Sehun stated.

Luhan interrupted quickly, “It would be nice, actually, if you took a break for a short while. I know, I know, you’re a workaholic and you’re at your best when you’re being productive and creative. But I miss having you around. Youri misses you, too. It would be very nice to have more than a couple hours a day with you.”

Sehun swallowed past the lump in his throat to say, “No matter where I work after this, I won’t pull such long hours. I won’t be away on the weekends, and miss all the important stuff.”

Mostly, truthfully, Sehun had gotten off that plane because he wasn’t going to chance missing the birth of his son. He wasn’t going to be employed by anyone who couldn’t respect his need to be there, or his need to take paternity leave before and after the birth. 

Sehun had started out with his family being the most precious thing to him, and worth more than anything else in his world, and nothing had changed since then. 

Firmly, however, Sehun told Luhan, “You can’t sell your paintings. They’re part of the collection you’re building. You’ve been working on them for the better part of the year, and you said you want to have a show when you’re satisfied with the set. Selling them would ruin everything.”

“Selling them is something I would do in a second, for this family.”

When Sehun kissed him again, this time, there was far more passion in it.

“Let me talk to Suho,” Sehun said by way of compromise. “Just let me talk to him about all of this.”

“Fair enough,” Luhan agreed.

“But no matter what,” Sehun whispered to him. “We do it together.”

Luhan gave him a supportive, loving grin. “Don’t we do our best work that way?”

“Totally.” 

Sehun didn’t regret his decision to get off the plane for a second. Not even after more time to think about the consequences of it. 

“Does your client know you never made the flight? Did you call him?” Luhan asked. He propped his head up with his hand as he stretched out on his side. “Or is someone in for a big surprise very, very soon?”

Youri fussed a little in her sleep and Sehun rubbed her back a little more firmly, trying to lull her into a deeper sleep.

And when she’d settled down, Sehun told Luhan, “I definitely don’t have a direct line to the guy. But I called his secretary the second I was off the plane. So I’d say by now my very former client knows that the jig is up.”

Frowning, Luhan asked, “What did you say?”

“The truth,” Sehun answered, easily enough. “I asked the secretary to listen very, very carefully, and then I told her the truth. I said that I was passionate about the project, and that I’d put my everything into it. I said I believed in it, and I wanted to make it work. But it also said I had a family that I had to put first. I said I had you, and that it wasn’t willing to risk my son’s arrival, for anything. And I said I had Youri, who was growing up too fast, and who needed me in these important years. I just said the truth. So what happens from here, is entirely out of my hands.”

Luhan tugged Sehun down so they were sharing the same pillow. He bumped their noses and said, “I feel like I don’t tell you how proud I am of you, nearly enough. I tell you how much I love you all the time, but I’m really proud of you, too.”

Sehun questioned, “You’re proud I’m now your out of work husband?”

Luhan’s lips brushed against Sehun’s, and he raised soft fingers to follow the curve of Sehun’s jaw.

“No,” he returned fondly. “I’m proud that you put this family first, no matter what, and love us unconditionally, and are the best father and husband that a person could possibly be.”

Sehun felt such a flare of pride and honor at Luhan’s words.

“I’m only that way because of you,” Sehun insisted.

In her sleep, Youri gave a perfectly timed kick and mumbled about sweet cakes.

“That is definitely your daughter,” Luhan commented.

Sehun smothered down a laugh. 

There was still no regret

In the morning, the house was occupying an impressive number of people. 

As he and Luhan crept their way steadily down the stairs, still trying to decide whether they were going to fuss with making breakfast, or try and bribe Wei into making a run to a nearby café, Sehun got his first look at the sight of his living room.

“I don’t think any of you live here,” Sehun announced.

Wei, hugging an arm around Xiumin’s shoulders in an easy way, offered up, “Technically? I mean …”

Luhan asked, “What are you all doing here?”

It wasn’t just Wei and Xiumin who were present. Chanyeol was curled up in the seat that reclined, snoring softly no matter the sound that was echoing through the room. And next to him Suho had been huddled in close with Chen, talking about something that had ended the moment Sehun and Luhan had come down the stairs.

Baekhyun came strolling into the living room from the kitchen after that, to announce, “It’s about time you losers woke up. We thought we were going to have to start knocking down walls to get your attention.”

Woozy on his feet, Luhan leaned heavily into Sehun, and he wasted no time getting Luhan situated on a spot on the sofa, before practically dashing into the kitchen for a cup of tea that usually seemed to help with the morning sickness. 

When he came back to Luhan with the tea, he could hear Luhan telling Baekhyun, “—think it’s okay if Youri wants to be a little clingy for a while. She was shaken yesterday at the idea of Sehun being gone for around a week. I think … maybe we underestimated how young she really is, and we take for granted how strong she always appears.”

Baekhyun, who could be too sarcastic and defensive, for various reason, had a serious look on his face. He told Luhan, “With a kid like Youri, I can see how that’s easy to forget.”

“Here,” Sehun said, handing the tea over to Luhan. He indulged himself by tucking in close and asking, “You didn’t bring Ahra?”

Baekhyun shook his head. “She and Taeyeon went out to visit her parents today.” He scoffed. “Let my kid have a break from yours, I say, before Youri starts to corrupt her again.”

Sehun rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like Ahra is completely innocent, Baekhyun. I’ve heard her propose some plans for world domination all on her own—there was one such proposition just last week.”

Luhan concurred, “There was something about dinosaurs in there, too. There’s always something about dinosaurs.”

Baekhyun cracked a real smile, and Sehun truly thought too much time often passed between them. Baekhyun had never been the same after Jae’s death, but he was better now than he’d ever been. 

“Not that we don’t love you all,” Luhan spoke up. “But what are you doing here?”

Suho cleared his throat and stood to say, “Yesterday was nice. Yesterday was very nice. But we didn’t get you and Sehun together, like we wanted. And while most of our friends are either going back home today, or busy doing other things, we were thinking that maybe those of us here could go out to a meal together.”

Taking the stairs carefully, Youri shouted loudly, “Can we have pancakes, Uncle Suho?!” She took a running leap to him when she was close enough.

Suho caught her without a second thought, taking in her bright yellow tights and spotted pokadott dress that was the furthest from flattering as possible.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Luhan insisted, catching Suho’s gaze.“But we’re letting her be creative. We’re letting her make her own choices and form her own opinions and personality. On the weekends, she can wear whatever she wants.”

“See,” Baekhyun insisted. “This is what I’m talking about. If Ahra starts dressing like this, I’m drawing a line.”

“So?” Xiumin asked. “Are we going to breakfast or not?”

Sehun breathed out a long sigh and turned to Luhan to ask, “Well, I haven’t gotten a call from the office yet, demanding that I get down there so I can be properly fired. Do you want to go out to breakfast with our slightly deranged friends?”

“That is offensive!” Wei called out.

“Pancakes!” Youri cheered. 

Luhan nudged Sehun. “You heard our daughter. Pancakes it is.”

“Give us a couple minutes to get dressed,” Luhan requested plucking at his pajama top. “And make some calls just to be sure we don’t leave anyone out.”

“Take your time,” Baekhyun, tossing a cushion from the sofa to Chanyeol. It hit spectacularly on his head, caused Chanyeol to twitch a little, but then his snores continued. “This might take a while.”

While some of their friends were unable to make the meal, Sehun was pleasantly surprised when Lay made it to the café only a couple minutes after the bulk of their group, followed by Kai and Tao. They commandeered a series of tables towards the back of the restaurant, and spent the next hour and a half eating, talking, and clinging to the idea of being together for just a little longer.

When their group began to thin out, Chanyeol leaned close to Sehun and asked, “Do you think we should go down to work? Turn ourselves in?”

Sehun gave him an in credulous look. “Turn ourselves in? We’re not criminals, Chanyeol.”

“I feel like I’m going to the executioner’s block,” Chanyeol replied. “And you’re crazy if you don’t.”

“Well, if I am, I want to enjoy the time I have before then.” Sehun looked back towards Luhan who was wiping down Youri’s syrup sticky hands with baby wipes. She was fussing, already getting to the age where she didn’t want to be babied by her parents, but she was also enduring. He could see the tenseness to her body, but she was letting Luhan fuss, and Sehun was warmed by the sight.

Chanyeol made a snorting sound.

“I’m going to do everything I can to save your job,” Sehun said, swinging back to Chanyeol as he saw Suho approaching. “I want you to believe me when I swear on that. I made the decision to get off the plane. You just followed after me with concern. If I can take all the blame, I will.”

Chanyeol started to protest, “That’s not fair, you shouldn’t—”

“Chanyeol,” Suho said, coming to stand at their side. “Do you mind if I speak with Sehun for a moment?”

Chanyeol put his hands up in surrender. “That’s cool. I’m heading home, anyway. Sehun, I’ll see you when we get the call.”

“Remember what I said,” Sehun called after him. “It’s a promise.”

Suho gave him a comforting look and said, “Wei is going to spend the afternoon with Xiumin. So I think it would be best if we spoke about your options. Can you and Luhan spare a couple hours for me?”

As much of an inevitability as it was, Sehun wanted to put it off. He didn’t want to face the reality of what was coming next, no matter how prepared he was to own up to his choices.

“What about Emily?” he asked. “I actually haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

Suho put a hand on Sehun’s shoulder and said, “She’s getting to know my parents little better. Trust me, it’s her turn now. I suffered that awkwardness with her parents last year—twice over because they’re divorced and living in different parts of the country, and now she gets the pleasure of handling mine.”

“Your mom is really nice, though,” Sehun defended.

“I’m not worried about my parents making her cry or anything,” Suho laughed out. “But mom can be intense, and you know that. Especially since… since …” There was a sudden sadness to Suho’s face before he managed to get out, “Since I’m the only son now, and she knows the only grandchildren she has, will come from me. It’s not like I’ve been keeping how serious my relationship with Emily is from her, either.”

Sometimes Sehun let himself forget about that.

“Anyway,” Suho said, shaking himself back into focus. “I wouldn’t have left Emily with my parents if I thought it was going to go badly.”

“No,” Sehun agreed. Then he proposed, “Let me go grab Luhan and we’ll head back home.”

Luhan was chatting with Chen when Sehun approached him, touching his elbow to turn him. 

“Time to go?” Luhan asked, brushing a deliberate kiss to Sehun’s cheek.

“Pretty much,” Sehun confirmed. He looked to Chen and asked, “Mind if we get out of here? You’re going to be in town for a couple more days at the very least, right? If my entire world hasn’t come crashing down by then, I want to treat you to lunch. Tomorrow maybe?”

There was an odd, distracted look to Chen’s face as he said, “Ah, maybe not tomorrow.”

“Busy?” Sehun asked, surprised. It wasn’t as if Chen really had any family left in Seoul. Not like Suho who’d already spend the better part of his time in town being smothered to death by relatives who still hadn’t forgiven him for moving so far away.

“Not sure yet,” Chen said, and then he gave a subtle nod to the door. “I’m kind of hoping yes.”

Sehun pivoted, and when he caught sight of the door, it was just in time to see Eunji come through it. She was looking around in an anxious way.

“Chen?” Sehun wondered. “What’s she doing here?”

Chen gave him a lofty look. “This guy that I pretty much trust, despite how clueless he can be at times, told me to give the love of my life a call and just talk to her. I took his suggestion to heart, actually.”

“And,” Luhan said in an awed, hopeful way, “she came here.” 

Chen ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous tick, and then said, “Excuse me, guys. That’s my wife over there.” 

Sehun watched how Chen cut through the crowd, making his way towards Eunji. And when he reached her, there was a brief, quiet passage of words between the two of them before they were leaving.

Luhan asked, “You told Chen to call her?”

Sehun nodded. “It’s been my experience in life that every time people who love each other, and trust each other, and are invested in each other, don’t communicate, it always ends badly. I told him what’s the worst that could happen? They break up? They divorce? Isn’t anything worth the chance to save a marriage with someone you love?”

Luhan’s hand found Sehun’s and their fingers slid together. “You constantly impress me, you know.” 

“My husband taught me well,” Sehun returned with a laugh. He slid is hand across Luhan’s stomach, felt their baby kick, and then dipped in for a fiery kiss.

An hour later Suho passed a standard, white, absolutely normal looking business card to Sehun.

“What’s this?” Sehun asked, turning the card at a better angle to read the writing on it. Luhan leaned a little too, to make out the label on the card. 

The house was empty and quiet save for the three of them, with Wei preoccupied with Xiumin, and Youri at a play date with a friend who lived a couple of blocks away.

“That’s the card of Choi Younghee. He’s an old friend—very old, we went to high school together, and then college. We’ve had a lengthy friendship.” 

Sehun looked again at the card, as if it would reveal its purpose to him with a stern enough expression.

“He’s an associate at a bank?” Luhan asked.

“It’s an investment banking firm,” Suho clarified, “that he and his family have had a significant hand in building up over the past three generations. Choi owes me a favor, and a big one at that. It’s his secret to keep, but I covered for him once, which kept him from being kicked out of the university we attended together, over a serious infraction. He owes a lot to me, you could argue.” 

Sehun repeated, “Investment banking.”

“I don’t think you should jump the gun just yet,” Suho advised, “but if you do end up losing your job, I want you to call that number on the card there. Tell Choi’s secretary your name, and she’ll set you up with a standard job interview. You’ll have a job by the end of the week, I promise you.”

Brows furrowed, Sehun protested, “I don’t know anything about banking. I’m in advertising and graphic design.”

“I suppose not,” Suho agreed. “But you’re exceptionally skilled at talking people into things. That’s most of what being an investment banker is. You have a way of making people believe in what you’re selling them, and that’s invaluable in the world of personal finance.”

Sehun sighed. 

Suho urged, “Just give it a try, okay? If this doesn’t work out, or you hate it, I’ll help you find something else. I’m not going to let you and your family fall on hard times. You know that. This isn’t just your family—your husband and your children—this is our family.”

Without a doubt, Sehun did know that. Of course, he did. Suho was too much of a damn hero, too good hearted, too kind, and just too much of a good person, to allow anything of that sort to happen. 

But…

“I hate the idea of you getting me a job like this,” Sehun huffed out.

Suho wondered, “Do you like the idea of being broke, more? Especially with a new baby on the way?”

Luhan intercepted whatever Sehun might have said next, to impart, “Thank you, Suho. You’re very generous.”

Suho shrugged. “Family is family, right?” A grin spread out on his face. “Even though you weren’t willing to name your son after me, I’m not going to take offense to that. I’ll forgive you.”

Sehun scoffed loudly, palming a hand to the swell of his son in Luhan’s stomach. “He’s Jae’s namesake in part. Did you want us to sneak your name in there instead?”

Slowly, Suho shook his head, a fondness for the situation playing out on his face. “Nah. Don’t worry, Sehun, Luhan, I think your son’s name is perfect. I think it’s just right in every way. Jae would be … he …” Suho needed a second to compose himself, before finishing, “Thank you for honoring my brother.”

Luhan beamed, and Sehun tugged Suho into a tight hug.

Sehun got the call later that night. He and Luhan and Wei and Xiumin were all wedged into the kitchen, trying to coordinate the preparation of the dinner meal for that night, and Youri was seated nearby on the countertop, cookbook open in front of her, legs swinging underneath her. 

“Red bean paste?” Luhan had said in confusion when the phone rang. “Was that on the list I sent you earlier, Xiumin?”

His boss’s secretary was very clear and directly to the point when she said that Sehun needed to be in the office in half an hour.There was no room for disobedience.

“Go,” Luhan urged when Sehun told him about the call. He slipped Sehun’s apron over his head. “Go now. And if you want to keep that job of yours, if you love it, you go and you fight for it.”

“Not everything can be fought for,” Sehun protested.

“You can try with anything,” Luhan protested.

Taking a deep breath, Sehun nodded. He wasn’t going to move on his stance. He wasn’t going to put the job before Luhan and Youri and Kyungjae. If his boss was going to tell him that he had to risk missing the most important moments with them, then Sehun was willing to risk investment banking instead.

“Good luck!” Luhan called after him, and Sehun wished he felt half as reassured as Luhan was trying to make him. 

Chanyeol was already at the office when Sehun got there. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet almost in a ridiculous way, standing in a line with several other people they worked with. And Sehun’s boss was at the head of the line. It was all disconcerting. Had they all gathered to bear witness to his firing?

“Oh,” his boss said tightly, with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

Sehun slowed to a stop, not sure what to think of it all. “What’s going on?” He looked to Chanyeol specifically, trying to hunt down a hint of it in his body language or facial expression. But Chanyeol was a mixture of so much Sehun didn’t know what he was really looking at in the end.

Sehun’s boss pointed down the hall, down to where Sehun’s office was located. And then, in a direct fashion, said, “Go to your office.”

Sehun’s mouth went dry. Go to his office? To pack his things? Wasn’t there going to be a half an hour session of yelling in his boss’s office first? Sehun didn’t know if skipping something like that was him getting off easy or not.

“Go now,” his boss said again, so Sehun went.

There was someone in his office. Sehun realized that the second he was close enough to see through the glass door. Someone was standing in his office, with his back to the door, looking at the accolades and pictures that Sehun had up on the wall.

“Can I help you?” Sehun asked slowly, slipping into the office and closing the door behind him. He pulled the blinds on the door when he noticed the hysterically large group of people who’d amassed in the hallway.

The man, in a dark blue and impeccably styled suit, turned at the words.

And Sehun realized who he was

Feng Xiao.

Feng Xiao was standing in his office. The client. The client whose investment in a new development property in Hong Kong was set to make the company Sehun worked for millions and millions.

It was such an unfathomable thing that Sehun had to lean back on his door

Feng thumbed towards a picture on the wall and asked in perfect Korean, only slightly accented, “This is your family?”

Sehun gave a shallow nod. It was a picture that had been taken in the hospital just after Youri’s birth, and it was an absolute favorite of Sehun’s. Luhan was still so tired in the photo, only a day out from his surgery, but there was joy and love and utter dedication on his face as he held Youri, with Sehun hovering next to him on the bed, and Suho, Chen, Baekhyun, and several others all packed into the picture. “My husband, our daughter, and our best friends.”

Feng gave a pensive nod. 

“Sir?” Sehun asked, and now it made so much sense as to why the whole office was practically stunned. In no instance had anyone come close to predicting that their incredibly busy, very high profile client, would fly all the way to Seoul to see any of them in person. 

Sehun half wondered if he was dreaming. He snuck a pinch to the inside of his arm.

“You make a very beautiful family,” Feng commended, his attention visibly passing from one picture to the next, eyes settling on a more recent one, where Sehun and Luhan had been attempting to teach Youri how to ride a bike. She was maybe a little too young yet, but she’d claimed she wanted to learn, and Baekhyun had snapped the picture. 

“They are everything to me,” Sehun found the courage to say.

Feng made a discerning sound. 

“Sir? Sir, can I ask what you’re here for? Can I help you in some way?”

Hands tucked behind his back, Feng’s attention finally went wholly back to Sehun, and he said, “I wondered, Oh, after you fought to win my approval on our project, what would be important enough for you to throw it all away over.”

Sehun’s knees locked up.

“Imagine my surprise when my secretary notified me that you had told her you removed yourself from the plane, and would not be where you were expected to show up.”

Now it wasn’t that Sehun couldn’t find the right words, it was more that he couldn’t find any words.

“So tell me,” Feng pressed, “tell me, Oh Sehun. Tell me what you told my secretary.”

“I …” Sehun started, then he stopped abruptly. He steeled himself instead of talking. Luhan and their children were the most important thing. They were his focus, and that was nothing to be ashamed of. He was already going to lose his job. There wasn’t anything else that anyone could do to him. And at the end of the night, he was still going home to the family he’d fought tooth and nail for. 

Feng raised an eyebrow in expectation.

“I got off that plane,” Sehun said, taking a sturdy step forward, “because I knew it was the right thing to do.”

“How so?”

Sehun told him with conviction, “The truth is, I was very frustrated working on your project. I felt like nothing I was submitting to you was good enough. I almost gave up. But my husband constantly pushed me. He believed in me. He sacrificed so much to support me. And then you were finally satisfied with something I put my everything into. Sir, I love what Park Chanyeol and I put together for you. I believe in its quality. I believe in what we can accomplish with it.” 

Snappishly, Feng pushed, “You haven’t answered my question, Oh Sehun.”

Sehun gave a sturdy nod. “The truth is, I got off that plane because I love my husband much more than I care about your project. I got off that plane because this project was asking me to sacrifice time that I had promised to my husband as he moves into the last months of his pregnancy. I got off the plane because I wasn’t willing to risk my son being born without me there, or reading to my daughter at night, or falling asleep next to my husband. I got off the plane and gave up everything with you because nothing with ever be as important to me as they are, and that’s the truth.”

There was no tell on Feng’s face. There was no emotion at all.

Sehun tried, “Chanyeol put his everything into this project too, sir. He knows it in and out, and he’s amazingly good at his job. Please, don’t punish him because of a choice I chose to make. Park Chanyeol can make your expectations come to life. He can deliver.”

Sharply, Feng said, “I asked you to deliver.”

“I know,” Sehun returned. “But I’m not going to go out of the country frequently with my husband set to deliver in a couple of months. And I’m not going risk missing my son’s birth.”

In a curious way, Feng asked, “You would give this all up for that?”

Sehun couldn’t help scoffing a little. “For the people that motivate me to get up each morning, and whose existence alone gets me through the day? Yes, sir. I would give everything up for them. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Yes.”

The corners of Feng’s mouth turned upward, much to Sehun’s confusion.

Then Feng said, “Good.”

“Good?” Sehun felt dizzy all the sudden.

Feng repeated, “Good. You are a man of conviction. Of standards. Of morals. I can use that.”

Shakily, Sehun repeated, “I can’t go out of the country right now. I can’t go out of the country for some time, not until my son is a little older.” It wasn’t like he was just waiting for the baby to be born. Sehun had both a want and a responsibility to be there in those first few months that were always the most rough. Especially because he and Luhan hadn’t been living together when Youri had first been born. Now they had a chance to endure those first months with a newborn together. “I can’t give your project the attention that it deserves.”

Feng laughed then and questioned, “Do you think the development in Hong Kong is the only project I have?”

Sehun shrugged.

Feng seated himself on Sehun’s sofa, unbuttoning his jacket and getting settled in.

“Park can take over the project you were previously on,” Feng decided. “For you, I have something else in mind. My sister-in-law recently purchased property in Boryeong. She has grand plans, but no hand to stir the ship. You seem capable, Oh Sehun. I’ll refer you to her for the initial planning.”

Sehun’s eyes widened, probably in a hilarious way. “You … you want to ... you’re not firing me?”

Feng said flippantly, “The land was only recently purchased and construction has yet to begin. It’ll be nine to twelve months before we’ll be ready to employ your marketing and design skills. Is that an adequate amount of time to prep for this size of an undertaking?”

Feng was holding out his hand then.

Sehun practically fell over himself to shake it. In a year his son would be far from a new born. Luhan would be back to his painting. And Boryeon wasn’t too far away. He could take the train, even, if he wanted to. There’d be no flying out of the country and staying away for far too long.

“Thank you,” Sehun breathed out, trying not to burst into tears. “Thank you for this chance, sir.”

Feng regarded him for a second, then admitted, “You’re an admirable man, Oh Sehun. Never lose that part of you.”

“No, sir,” Sehun agreed readily.

Waving a hand, Feng ordered, “Well, get Park in here. I didn’t come all the way to Seoul just to test your character. Let’s see if he’s worth his weight, like you are.”

Chest swelling with hope, Sehun hurried to do so.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Luhan

There was a meltdown currently occurring in front of him, and if it hadn’t been so frustrating, it might have been hysterically funny.

“I hate it when they tag team us!” Sehun shouted from next to him, Kyungjae’s soiled outfit wringing in his hands, and a bright red mark blooming into a bruise on his forehead from where Youri had kicked her shoe at him and landed a direct hit.

Luhan sighed, his ears ringing from the crying. “We’re already late! You know I hate being late!”

On the ground Youri was practically rolling back and forth, and next to her on the sofa, Kyungjae was giving it his best to match his sister’s tantrum.

Sehun leaned into Luhan’s side, wrapping an arm around his hip, and said into his ear, “I thought Youri’s terrible twos were supposed to be the worst. She’s four now—almost five.”

Luhan huffed a little. 

He was usually terribly patient with his children, willing to give them room to settle into the things he wanted of them, and always keen on not pushing too hard. Of course he could be a disciplinarian if necessary, mostly because Sehun was a marshmallow when it came to that and Youri certainly knew. It wouldn’t be long before Kyungjae knew, either.

But they had somewhere important to be, and they were already running late.

“That’s it,” Luhan decided, sweeping in to scoop Kyungjae up into his arms. The baby careened back, crying louder, but Luhan ignored it. He pointed to Youri and ordered Sehun, “Pick her up. We’re leaving now.”

“Noooooo!” Youri screamed.

Sehun looked baffled. “This is all Suho’s fault.”

At that, Luhan laughed a little. It kind of was, a little, but mostly this meltdown was just a byproduct of their daughter’s fiercely opinionated and independent way of being. Suho was the one who’d bought her the junior scientist kit, where she could conduct harmless experiments and watch basic chemical reactions. And Youri had loved it from the start, maybe almost too much.

Now she was throwing an epic fit because they had to leave, and she wanted to stay indoors and experiment with what reacted with baking powder, and in which way. 

Kyungjae was just being a baby, of course. But in part, Luhan thought he was already too good at being his sister’s conspirator. He’d decided to sick up all over his carefully planned outfit just as Youri was getting ramped up with her tantrum.

“How late are we?” Sehun asked, Youri in his arms, ignoring the way she twisted and protested to be put down.

“Only fifteen minutes now,” Luhan said, hefting Kyungjae into a more comfortable position on his hip. “But we still need to make the drive out to the country.”

Sehun grimaced. “And if we’re really lucky, we get to hear this all the way, don’t we?”

Sehun was making the most adorable, wretched face, that Luhan couldn’t help himself leaning over to kiss him.

“The car is already loaded up,” Luhan reminded. “Let’s just go. The kids can cry themselves out if they want. You and I have to be there. You missed last time. Imagine how we’ll never live it down if we both miss this one.”

Three years. It had taken three years to get all of their friends in one spot for one big gathering. And when that had occurred, after Luhan had spent three years trying to make it happen, the debacle with Sehun’s job had occurred and he’d missed it all. No one had given either of them grief over it when the truth of it all had come out. But it still stung.

This time it had only taken a little over a year to get everyone back in the same place, and if that wasn’t some kind of miracle, Luhan didn’t know what was.

Maybe fate was just aligning in their favor for once. Because it sure felt like a miracle that both Lay and Suho had called within days of each other, giving the same time estimate for being in Korea. After that it had only been a little difficult to reign everyone else in, and make schedules match up. 

Of course none of that was going to matter if their children weren’t willing to cooperate long enough to even get out the door.

“Sehun,” Luhan started again. The car was already packed up for the drive and sub sequential picnic they had planned for the day. He was at the point where he thought it was best if they just buckled the kids in and left, crying aside.

Sehun turned to him, then gave a loud shout, “Ow! Oh Youri!”

Luhan could see what had happened right away. “Daiyu!”

Youri practically tumbled down to the ground as Sehun released her to clutch at his hand. Specifically at the spot where she’d bitten him.

“I wanna stay!” She shouted at them. “I don’t wanna go to a stupid picnic!”

“Are you okay?” Luhan asked Sehun, trying to get a better look at his hand, even as Kyungjae’s tears seemed to finally dry up and he leaned wearily against Luhan’s chest.

“Take him out to the car,” Sehun ordered roughly, fingers pinched. “Get him in his car seat, okay?Youri and I need to have a very serious talk about how it’s not okay to bite people.” There was nothing but seriousness on Sehun’s face, and on the ground Youri was now sulking.

Slowly, Luhan nodded. “Okay. Please join us as soon as possible.”

Sehun was absolutely a marshmallow with their children. He utterly struggled to be an authority figure in their lives. It was simply a reflection of how much he loved them, his personality, and the trauma in his past. But Luhan felt like this moment was about to be an exception.

“Come on, Jae,” Luhan said as he exited the house and headed towards the car. Before Youri’s meltdown they’d been ready to leave right away, and the car doors were even still open. Luhan was actually grateful, because the weather was hot, and an aired out car meant he could put Kyungjae right into his car seat.

Kyungjae gave deep breaths as he calmed, and it seemed like the worst of the tears were over.

“What was that all about?” Luhan asked gently, fingers brushing away tears. Then he pushed some of his son’s wispy baby hair back, clearing his forehead for a kiss. “Why the anger all the sudden? Your sister is a great role model most of the time. But maybe not in cases like these.”

Kyungjae’s fingers wrapped around Luhan’s shirt as he leaned closer to buckle the care seat fully in, and Luhan couldn’t help kissing him again and again.

It was almost felt scary the level of ferocity he felt when it came to his children. Before Youri had come along, and then Kyungjae, he hadn’t known it was possible to love someone so much and so consuming. It had been a wonderful lesson to learn.

“All better now?” Luhan wondered. Kyungjae had soiled his outfit fifteen minutes earlier, and now he was in just a diaper and white undershirt. “I guess this is how you’re going,” Luhan decided. Youri had been pretty good at letting him dress her up, especially if Baekhyun or Suho were involved. Kyungjae less so.

Kyungjae’s packed diaper bag certainly had several changes of clothes, and Luhan resolved to wait until Kyungjae went down for his next nap before trying to wrangle him into real clothes. 

“Ssshhh,” Luhan soothed, fingers stroking through Kyungjae’s hair as he calmed nearly all the way. “You’re okay. No more mean, terrible clothes. Not for a while, at least. I promise.”

Luhan gave his best grin to the baby, and still to the day, was completely unnerved at the sight of himself looking back at him.

Youri was an almost clever looking mix of himself and Sehun. She had features from the both of them, even if her personality was utterly distinct. But Kyungjae? He was very much, in every was possible, Sehun’s son, even if he only looked Luhan’s. 

It hadn’t been so obvious when Kyungjae had been born. It hadn’t been noticeable for months. But Kyungjae was over half a year now. His features were settling. His looks were defined. And aside from tiny, small things, Luhan only saw himself.

Sehun only saw Luhan in him, too.

“I think it’s amazing,” Sehun had whispered to him one night as they lay in bed. They were sticky from making love, and sated, and Luhan had been dozing. Sehun had whispered to him then, “I love that I see so much of him in you. Why wouldn’t I want my son to look like the person I love the most in this world?”

Kyungjae had all of Luhan’s most prominent features, from the shape of his face, to his eyes, to his nose. 

Sehun had added then, just before dropping off to sleep, “The next one can look like me, okay?”

Luhan had hit him on the shoulder then, not hard, but enough to make a point. Of course they wanted another baby. They’d talked about three being a nice number. But that third baby was a long time off. And Sehun could have it himself if he was so keen on it. Luhan was going to be glad to get back to his prebaby body, and have it for some time.

“No more crying now, okay?”

The last of the tears were wiped away and Luhan reached over for the small bag of toys they’d learned to keep in the backseat of the car. He jingled a brightly colored toy in front of Kyungjae before handing it over to him to chew on. Luhan had felt several teeth in his mouth the last time Kyungjae had tried to gnaw on his fingers. Kyungjae seemed moments away from full blood teething. 

Luhan was just slipping into the front seat when Sehun emerged from the house, Youri up in his arms. Her face was clear of tears, and she seemed calm and in control of herself again. If anything, she looked regretful and even a little guilty.

“Did you have a good talk?” Luhan asked as Sehun helped her into her booster seat. He wasn’t sure which of them he was asking.

“I’m sorry, baba,” Youri apologized, sniffling a little. But she didn’t cry, so Luhan counted that as a win. She also had a magnifying glass in one hand, and one of her bug catching nets in the other. Luhan took that as a compromise Sehun had worked out with her.

“Okay?” Luhan asked Sehun quietly when he got into the passenger seat.

Sehun reached across for Luhan’s hand. “Perfectly fine,” he answered. “Now, ready to get out and see our friends?”

“Absolutely.”

It was a twenty minute car ride out of the city, and then another fifteen to where they were set to meet with everyone else. Kyungjae fell asleep before they were even out of Seoul, and Youri was content enough to play with her toys.

“Excited?” Sehun asked as they moved ever closer to their destination. 

“Of course I am,” Luhan scoffed. “And so are you.”

Sehun gave him a knowing smile. “I’m always exited to see our family again.”

They were, predictably enough, the last to arrive.

With Kyungjae sleeping in his arms, Luhan and Sehun climbed a big hill up away from where they’d left the car, and Youri charged ahead. “It still kind of freaks me out,” Sehun admitted, carrying their contribution to the picnic in his arms, big boxes filled with food meant to be shared with friends and family. “How can she just freak out in one moment and be perfectly fine the next?”

Luhan laughed loudly. “She’s a kid, Sehun. More than that, she’s our kid. How can you be surprised?”

Sehun reached over to rub at Kyungjae’s back slightly, the baby sleeping through the motion. “I’ve got hope for this one, Luhan. There’s still hope.”

Luhan laughed again, and up ahead they were spotted. It was only seconds before Tao was waving wildly a them and charging down to meet them.

“Careful,” Sehun said, catching Tao by the collar and trying to pluck him away from Luhan and a sleeping Kyungjae. 

“You’re still such a kid,” Luhan told him gently. “Tao. Nice to see you.” There was a part of him that truly hoped Tao never really grew up.

“Is that him?” Tao asked.He craned around for a better look at Kyungjae. 

They started the rest of the way up the hill to where the others were waiting, and Luhan pointed out, “You saw him when he was born.”

Everyone had, for the most part. They’d all come and gone at different times, and it hadn’t been like when Youri had been born, but in the weeks that came after Kyungjae’s birth, all of the people who mattered most had drifted in and out to greet the newest member of the family. But it was true that Tao had been working abroad since that time. 

“He’s just so big now,” Tao protested. “Babies grow up way too fast.” 

Luhan nodded in agreement. His little Youri wasn’t so little anymore. She was in kindergarten now, wanted to dress herself completely in the morning, and was less and less dependent with every passing day. She wasn’t the tiny little baby now, that she had been before.

“When do I get to hold him?” Tao asked, bouncing a little on his feet.

“Soon,” Luhan promised, ignoring the anxious look Sehun gave him. Luhan rolled his eyes. Tao had never dropped any of the children. The same couldn’t be said for Suho. Luhan and Sehun were still sworn to secrecy on that one, and Youri had had the most magnificent third birthday party to show for it. 

Luhan felt his heart swell up when they finally reached the top of the hill. Spread out over an impressive area were dozens of blankets, with food already being passed out, children running about, and a sense of excitement in the air that Luhan had been looking forward to for a long, long time. 

“Ahra!” Youri called out, and took off like a marathoner for her. 

“You’re late,” Suho observed, coming to greet them. He pulled Sehun into a firm hug, and Luhan couldn’t help noticing the gleam of Suho’s new, golden wedding ring as it caught the light of the high sun above them. It suited him well.

And it had been a beautiful wedding, too. Luhan had worried at first about being able to attend the event. Kyungjae had only just been born, and was less than three months old. And the wedding itself was being held in New York.The last thing Luhan had wanted to do was fly with a baby that young, and a four-year-old. Not even with Sehun’s help did Luhan think that was a good idea.

“Well,” Suho had said, “I’m not getting married without you being there.”

Luhan hadn’t known what that was all about, not until he and Sehun had been out to visit Sehun’s mother and seen a half dozen people out in the expansive garden area, huddled together over tablets, obviously planning something out.

“What’s going on?” Luhan had asked, handing Kyungjae over to Sehun’s mother.

She’d asked them, “Don’t you think the gardens would be a beautiful place for a wedding?”

And then, three weeks after that Suho and Emily arrived in Seoul for a relocated wedding. Luhan had been trying to get a fussy Kyungjae down for a nap in the nursery, and the happy couple were over visiting while Sehun was working from home in his office. The baby monitor had been on, and Luhan could hear them talking downstairs in the study where one of the monitors had been left.

He hadn’t been eavesdroppingon purpose, but he also couldn’t help overhearing Suho tell Sehun, “We talked about it a lot, you know. I needed Emily to really understand what you mean to me, before we could take the final plunge in our relationship. I’m not saying she’s going to be competing with you, but you, Sehun? My parents, but mostly you, you are everything to me. In a lot of ways, you’re all I have left of Jae, and I desperately need that connection.”

“Suho…”

Suho had pressed, “You’re my brother in every way that matters. You’re also my best friend. I need you there with me, Sehun, when I get married. I need you standing up there as my best man. And if that means I have to move my wedding to Korea, in order to make sure that happens, it’s something I’m willing to do.”

Sehun had questioned, “You’re telling me your fiancée was okay? Especially with losing all that money? I know you put a deposit on the place in New York, and the catering, and—” 

“That’s why I’m marrying her,” Luhan had heard Suho respond. “Aside from the fact that I love her very much. She just understands, Sehun. She understands the things that are most important to me, and she does what she can. Plus, money is just money.”

“And the inconvenience of it?”

Suho explained, “My parents are older than hers. Mine hate traveling, too. It took work to get them to come visit two years ago, and they haven’t been back since because they hate traveling so much. Hers? They love traveling. We’re going to have a reception for our friends in New York when all this is said and done, but the wedding? It’s definitely happening here in Korea, where you can attend, and my parents, and Luhan, and all the people I care the most about.”

So they had had the wedding in Korea, and it had been lovely. So it was almost a shocker that Suho was back in the country again so soon now. But Luhan wasn’t taking anything for granted. He just wanted to enjoy the time they had.

“Youri had a meltdown,” Luhan said when Suho reached to hug him, careful of the baby. 

“He looks more and more like you every day,” Suho observed when he peered down at Kyungjae. “And he’s grown so much since the past couple months I’ve been away.”

“I hope he’s incentive,” Sehun said, knocking Suho playfully in the shoulder. “You could do with starting your own family.”

Suho gave a deep laugh. “Maybe not so soon, okay? Emily and I are really enjoying just being married to each other. And our careers, for that matter too. We’ll talk about kids when we get there eventually.”

“Fair enough,” Sehun said with a shrug. “Because Youri might just die of heartbreak if she thinks she’s not the most important person in the world to you anymore.”

“No chance of that,” Suho swore. “I’ll never let her think any different.” 

Luhan had no doubt.

“Luhan!” Xiumin called out when they were a little closer. He gestured to the spot next to him, the only one open in a cluttered sea of people and food everywhere. “I saved you a spot.”

“You mind if I catch up with Chen for a second?” Sehun asked, nodding towards where Chen and Eunji were spread out on a blue blanket more in the shade than not. 

“Go, go,” Luhan urged, then passed Kyungjae to Sehun. “Jae might do better in the shade, don’t you think?”

Now an expert baby handler, Sehun completed the pass without so much as the baby stirring. “Good thinking.” He pressed a kiss to Luhan’s mouth. “Get good gossip. Report back later.”

Luhan laughed at him, but didn’t dispute that they’d probably be talking about their friends for hours later that night.

“Glad you decided to shop up,” Xiumin greeted, handing Luhan a bottle of water. It was a much needed refreshment on a hot day. 

“Hey,” Luhan protested. “I have to get four people out the door. You only have one.”

In an indignant, offended way, Wei sat up. He’d been laying out on his back next to Xiumin, sunglasses on his face, soaking in the sun. “I don’t count?”

Luhan challenged, “Does Xiumin dress you?”

Wei wiggled his eyebrows. “Sometimes he undresses me.”

Xiumin gave him an elbow to the side and Wei chuckled, laying back down, hands going behind his head. “Ignore this idiot. But to answer your question, yes, sometimes I do have to make sure he’s respectable enough looking to go out in public.”

Wei called out, “Love you too.”

In all truthfulness, Luhan hadn’t been sure if Wei was even going to be in the country past his six month projection, let alone make the relationship with Xiumin work that had only started to bud when Wei had first come to stay with Luhan and Sehun.

He’d been pulling for them, of course, but he’d long since learned the future was far too difficult to predict.

But he had. Wei had stayed the expected six months, and then he’d filed for an extension with his visa. He’d taken another assignment in Korea, and then another, and then to top it all off, he’d moved in with Xiumin.

Once and only once, Luhan had commented to him, “I thought you were more nomadic by nature. I thought you hated staying in one place for too long.” 

Wei had only shrugged and countered, “Maybe I just needed something worth staying for.”

For the most part, nothing had changed with Xiumin. He still overworked himself at his clinic, and was a little too closed off, but Wei was certainly helping. Xiumin came out to dinner more often now, and certainly smiled more, and generally seemed more happy.

Luhan had no idea if they were thinking long term, but it undoubtedly meant something that Wei had given up his apartment and they were living together. Luhan hoped it meant that two incredibly important people were able to find happiness with each other.

“Ah,” Xiumin said, gesturing to Youri who seemed to be leading Ahra on an adventure of misbehavior already.“Things were too boring without you and your family here. You definitely saved the day.”

Luhan uncapped the water and took a long drink, commenting, “Your welcome. I know you’d be terribly bored without me me your life. You’re very welcome.”

Xiumin scoffed, but he had a smile for Luhan all the same.

The day was hot, but it wasn’t unbearable, and Luhan grew to enjoy the feeling of warmth as the afternoon passed. Because Kyungjae was so young he ended up spending a lot more time inside than out, so being out in the sun was a nice change.

Even better was the chance to catch up with old friends, and eat good food. Sehun was more than happy to carry Kyungjae around while he was sleeping, and then keep him preoccupied when he was awake, at least until Luhan was starting to feel separation anxiety himself.

“Couldn’t stay way?” Sehun joked, handing Kyungjae over without preamble.

Luhan huffed a little, “Don’t you judge me, Oh Sehun.”

Sehun, who was clustered around Kai and D.O., promised, “You know I never would.”

Kai vouched for him, “He’s smarter than that.” 

“Debatable,” D.O., reconsidered. 

Bracing a hand under Kyungjae, Luhan said, “Don’t let Sehun fool any of you. He cried the first time Youri went off to kindergarten by herself and didn’t even look back.”

Sehun scowled. “You traitor, Luhan.”

“It was adorable,” Luhan insisted.

Laughing loudly, Kai broke in, “That reminds me, Luhan. If you or Sehun are interested, my studio is extending to some baby and me classes. They’re designed to just get everyone moving and stay engaged, and only run about forty-five minutes, three times a week. I was thinking you might want to enroll Youri.”

“Youri’s not exactly a baby anymore,” Luhan pointed out.

“I know,” Kai chuckled. “The classes are just called that. We hope to start kids around two or three, and take them all the way up to the adult classes.”

D.O. ribbed him, “That’s one way to build brand loyalty.”

Kai snapped at him, “Don’t be jealous, D.O., you could take some classes yourself. Your coordination could be improved, that’s for sure.”

D.O. leaned over in a very coordinated way to pinch Kai.

“I’ll talk it over with Youri, and if she wants to do it, I’ll get her signed up,” Luhan promised, then escaped before bickering overtook everything. 

By the time desert was coming out, Luhan had practically commandeered Baekyun’s blanket. Kyungjae was more than happy to crawl around on the blanket, easily corralled by Taeyeon who was still gushing about how adorable he was.

But Luhan’s attention himself was on Baekhyun’s son. He almost couldn’t believe that Baekhyun had been willing to bring him out of the house. Unlike Kyungjae who’d been healthy and normal and surprisingly quiet for a baby, Baekhyun’s son had been the opposite. He’d been colicky from the start, and had a poor reaction to the first of his booster shots.

Baekhyun, naturally, had smothered the baby into some forced isolation in his home, even so much as taking a semester off from school. 

“He’s looking so much better now,” Luhan said, brushing a finger gently against the baby’s cheek. “I take it you got it all figured out.”

Baekhyun hovered on his knees next to Luhan, looking at his son with such love that Luhan nearly handed the baby right back over to him.

“That’s one way to say it,” Baekhyu said with a huff, leaning a hand on Luhan’s knee. “Turns out he’s allergic to practically everything they’ve tested him for at this point.”

“Seriously?” Luhan asked, eyes going wide. His attention drifted to Kyungjae who was just close enough to the edge of the blanket to reach the nearby grass. He was reaching for it like it would be seconds before it ended up in his mouth. Kyungjae, like Youri, was proving to be an exceptionally healthy baby. “Is everything okay?”

Baekhyun nodded. “We know what to watch for now, and what we’ll keep him away from in the future.” Baekhyun leveled a decisive finger up at Luhan. “That son of yours better keep that in mind when he decides to drag mine into one of his harebrained schemes.”

Luhan burst out a loud choke of laughter. “Kyungjae is barely old enough to crawl. He hasn’t even managed to pull himself up to his feet yet. I think it’s going to be a long time before your son is egging mine on to get into trouble.”

“Oh, is that what Ahra does with Youri?”

“You’d bet it is,” Luhan said right back. “Youri is a natural born leader, but she doesn’t come up with everything all on her own. I daresay your daughter is the brains behind it all.”

A smile lit across Baekhyun’s face. “They’re the perfect pair, I guess.”

Luhan pointed out where Youri and Ahra had taken over their own blanket, one that had belonged to Chanyeol. But Chanyeol was currently stealing a second round of desert from Kris who was doling it out. 

“I’m glad, you now,” Luhan said softly, relishing in the weight of Baekhyun’s son in his arms. 

“Glad about what?” Baekhyun asked.

“That we’re friends,” Luhan told him honestly. There had been times, of course, when he hadn’t been sure if their friendship was one out of necessity, or if it was truly a natural and impacting one. But these days, with how their children were best friends, and how Luhan knew he and Baekhyun could share anything with each other, he knew what was real. At some point, Baekhyun had been able to stop seeing the person who had taken his friend’s spot, and Luhan thought they were all better for it.

Baekhyun gave him a look that said he was continually impressed with how stupid Luhan could sound, and scoffed, “Of course we’re friends.”

“I know,” Luhan insisted. “I’m just glad for it.”

“You are so weird,” Baekhyun breathed out. “Also, your son is eating grass.”

With a chuckle, Luhan passed the baby back to Baekhyun and then got to his feet to retrieve Kyungjae.

They spent hours out in the warmth.They spent hours in the company of good friends and good food. But eventually even Luhan could determine when it was all starting to wind down. 

“I guess it’s about that time,” Sehun commented. Eventually he and Luhan had found their way back to each other’s side. Now Youri as napping on the blanket next to them, and Luhan had Kyungjae in his lap, the baby more than happily occupied with a couple of toys and his pacifier. The sun was starting to dip in the distance and people were packing their things up. 

“I had a good time,” Luhan told him, running his fingers through Kyungjae’s hair.

Sehun agreed with a nod. “Especially since everyone showed up. I thought Chanyeol might be the hold out, actually. He was only able to push his fight at the last second. He’s lucky we have a very understanding boss.”

Luhan was the one who was thankful. He was more thankful than he thought he could ever properly express that Chanyeol had gotten the lead on the Hong Kong project, and Sehun had gotten himself moved over to a more domestic based one.

It kind of felt like a fairy tale in a way, because everything had worked out wonderfully, and everyone had gotten what they wanted in the end. Luhan hadn’t really thought things like that could happen in real life. But the proof was there. Every morning Sehun got up and was excited to go to work, and got to stay—for the most part, in the greater Seoul area, and got the weekends off for his family, and didn’t have to do extensive traveling. 

Luhan was even proud of Chanyeol, who’d always been a little too comfortable in taking the backseat on things, and not becoming a leader in his own right. In the past year Chanyeol had done even more growing up, and was impressively juggling a demanding job, and a growing social life.

Yes, Luhan had gotten the flurry of texts from Kai and Baekhyun when the two of them had spotted Chanyeol out on a date with the same person three times in a row. For Chanyeol, that was impressive, and now they were all waiting for a proper introduction. 

“Luhan?”

Luhan’s head tilted back as Lay approached, his fingers interlocked with Yiru’s. If Luhan had thought marriage was good for Lay a year ago, it was looking even more beneficial to him now. 

Marriage had a way of putting strain on relationships. Marriage had a way of testing bonds. 

But Lay and Yiru’s marriage, no matter how it had been arranged, the lack of love they’d probably felt for each other when it took place, was only flourishing. Luhan liked looking at them and seeing stability and strength, and proof. 

“Leaving?” Luhan asked. 

“We’re leaving,” Lay confirmed. “But thank you for continuing to put these gatherings together. Have I ever told you how I enjoy them? What they mean to me?”

“I’ll do them for as long as possible,” Luhan promised. “I want us to all have grandkids and still be getting together once every couple of years for things like this.”

“You’re well on your way,” Lay said, kneeling down to kiss the top of Kyungjae’s head. “I’ll write you.”

“I’ll write you back,” Luhan promised. Lay’s correspondences were some of the emails that he looked forward to the most. “Have a safe flight.”

Of all their friends, Luhan had worried the least about Lay. But it was always nice to see for himself how well his old friend was doing. 

Before the bulk of everyone had left, Kris made Luhan promise to come by a new café location to get some of his art hung up in it—something that was more of a tradition now than anything else. 

“I think,” Sehun said in Luhan’s ear, causing a shiver, “it’s our time to get going. Kyungjae hasn’t had a proper napping schedule today, so he’ll be unbearable later. And Youri’s sleeping a little too much. We should get her up and moving before it’s too late and she won’t sleep at all tonight.”

“You’re such a dad,” Luhan teased, turning his head to catch Sehun’s mouth. “It’s very sexy.”

They were almost home, an hour later, when Sehun turned to Luhan and said, “I invited Chen and Eunji over for dinner next week okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Luhan said right away. “You know they’re some of our best friends.”

“I just wanted to check,” Sehun insisted.

And without a shadow of a doubt, Sehun had been happier since Chen had moved back to Korea. It had felt a little abrupt at the time, with Chen not even letting them know it was happening until days before, but Luhan wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sehun needed his best friend in the same way Luhan needed Xiumin.

Chen coming home to Korea was probably the best thing he could have done, in any case. Because the way Luhan understood it, Chen’s marriage with Eunji had been failing. Infertility and a lack of communication had nearly driven them apart.

Eunji and Chen coming back to Korea meant them immersing themselves in a group of people who could support them, and cared for them, and would help however necessary. 

“Is everything okay?” Luhan asked with a wince. “I mean with them.”

Sehun grimaced and admitted, “They got an update about their position on the wait list. They got pushed back. Buearocracy. Bah.” He shook his head in irritation. “But the good news is they’re not giving up. They committed to adopting, Luhan. It’s the path they’re going to walk, and I guess all we can do is support them.”

Luhan made a noise of agreement. And honestly, he was quite proud of his friends. They could have easily given up on each other and the future they’d once wanted to have. Eunji could have thrown herself into her career. Chen could have come back to Korea alone. And paperwork could have been filed.

Instead the two of them had gone away together on a much needed vacation. They’d talked about their future, their wants, and their dreams. They’d figured out what was working for them, and what wasn’t. Then they’d made the decision to come back to Korea, where their home was, and to start the process of adoption. 

“You know we’ll help them however we can,” Luhan assured. “Chen was always there for us, and Eunji … I don’t know how we would have gotten through Youri’s pregnancy without her. Whatever they need, we’ve got them.”

“Thank you,” Sehun breathed out. “It’s not fair, you know. Chen said to stop feeling sorry for them, and I know I should, but I can’t. It’s not fair that we got Youri and Kyungjae so easily, and Chen has to wait to be told when he can be a father.” Sehun took a couple of deep, steadying breaths. “But Chen is right, and you’re right, and I know what we have to do. We have to keep steady. We have to support them, and not let ourselves feels sorry. It’s just hard.”

Luhan told him firmly, “You’re a very good friend, Sehun. I hope you give yourself enough credit in that department.”

Sehun gave a low chuckle. “All that therapy I’ve been paying for for years, better be worth something.”

“Somethings tells me that has nothing to do with how good of a person you are,” Luhan said certainly. 

“Seriously,” Sehun said as they were climbing into bed. “Today was a really good day.”

Turned on his side, Luhan said, “People drift. That’s just an unfortunate fact of life. People drift and it’s completely normal. But when we do stuff like this, and make an effort, it makes the pain less.”

“You’re very wise,” Sehun eased out, lowering himself over Luhan and cupping his face tenderly. “You’ve always been decades wiser than the people around you.”

“It’s not inherent,” Luhan chuckled, hooking a leg around Sehun’s waist to pull him closer. “You just … when you only have yourself to depend on, you learn to grow up really fast, and you start to look at the world differently around you.”

“You’re not alone anymore,” Sehun said almost fiercely, bending down to give Luhan a searing kiss. “And we’ll never let happen to our kids, what your parents did to you.”

Until Sehun had mentioned them, Luhan hadn’t spared his parents a thought for months and months.

They’d issued that thinly veiled ultimatum half a year ago, before Kyungjae had even been born, practically attempting to coerce Luhan into letting them have access to Youri. And from that, Luhan had learned one very important thing. 

Suho wasn’t nearly as squeaky clean as he professed to be.

Luhan hadn’t asked for details, he hadn’t gone poking around for information, and he hadn’t leveled any accusations at Suho. He simply knew that Suho had taken his parent’s letter to be some personal threat against his family, and reacted accordingly so. Suho didn’t just have friends in high places in Korea, that seemed to extend to China as well, and whatever Suho had done, had caused a termination of all communication. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” Suho had told him simply over the phone once, months after Wei had brought the letter. “Concentrate on that baby you’re about to have, and not the life you left behind.”

If Sehun knew what Suho had done to Luhan’s parents to make them back off, he certainly wasn’t talking. But Luhan wasn’t pressing, either. 

“I love you,” Sehun told him kindly, kissing him with a grin. “Sometimes I think about how much I love you, and it blows my pants off.”

Luhan snapped playfully at the waistband of Sehun’s pajama bottoms. “Speaking of pants coming off.”

“Oh,” Sehun breathed out, reached down to pull Luhan’s pelvis more flush against his own. “That can definitely be arranged.”

Luhan pulled him down into a more consuming kiss them, with more tongue and teeth, and definitely more intent. Sehun kissed back eagerly, and Luhan’s fingers dug deep into Sehun’s hair.

Just half a minute later the sound of a baby cut through the previously quiet house.

“No way,” Sehun breathed out, shuddering against Luhan in frustration. “Please tell me that is not our son, interrupting our special, very private time, probably with a wet diaper.”

Luhan teased, “We should have a second baby, you said. Don’t you want a second baby, you asked. 

Sehun snuck a kiss as the crying continued, and commented, “Hey now, you were a very willing participant, need I remind you.”

“No disagreement there,” Luhan laughed out. Then he pushed at Sehun’s shoulder. “I pulled diaper duty last night. This is all you.”

“Duty calls,” Sehun sighed out, then lifted himself off Luhan and started for the door.

He was almost at it, reaching for the door handle, when Luhan sat up in bed and pulled his shirt over his head. Pointedly, he told Sehun, “If you’re quick enough, you never know what might be waiting for you when you get back.”

With a flying leap, a comical one at that, Sehun landed back on the bed, and pressed a kiss against Luhan’s lips with such passion that the both of them toppled back against the sheets. 

“Go!” Luhan giggled against another kiss. “Go and then hurry back.”

Sehun gave a serious salute, and took off at a sprint.

Luhan watched him go, and just felt awed.

He loved Sehun. He loved Sehun so much. God, he loved him so much he felt like he might burst from the feeling. 

Not more than a minute late Sehun burst back into the bedroom, but unexpectedly he had Kyungjae with him, and an obviously soiled diaper.

“Emergency!” Sehun hissed to him, and when he turned Kyungjae, Luhan could see there’d been an explosion of poop everywhere, and it had leaked out of the diaper to crawl its way up Kyungjae’s back into his pajama onesie. “Luhan! Help!”

Kyungjae’s face scrunched up even further, and he began to wail in earnest.

“Oh, no,” Luhan squeaked out, trying not to burst into laugher. He reached for Kyungjae and told Sehun, “Go get us set up in the bathroom, will you? Looks like this little guy is getting a second bath tonight.”

“Got it,” Sehun said. But then he hesistated. 

“What?” Luhan asked, ignoring the poop to put Kyungjae against his hip. It was fair to say that the night was probably ruined for anything but cleaning the baby up and getting him settled again.

“Look,” Sehun said bashfully, “this is going to sound really weird, but right now, just seeing you take charge and deal with Kyungjae? It’s super hot.”

“Yes, I’m sure this is very romantic,” Luhan protested. 

Pressing Kyungjae between them, Sehun kissed him slowly—deliberately. “To me, Luhan, there is nothing more romantic than seeing the man I love, taking care of our children.”

Luhan’s heart gave a stutter of desire, and he kissed Sehun’s cheek as he passed him. “Come on, husband of mine. Let’s go bathe our stinky son.”

“Right behind you,” Sehun replied, and hurried after him.

Hours later everything was set right. Both children were asleep, the house was quiet, and Luhan could feel the comforting weight of Sehun against him. He was hoping to drop off soon himself, the sound of Kyungjae’s baby monitor lulling him into it.

So naturally, that was when the phone next to the bed began to ring shrilly. Luhan reached for it with a viper’s speed. The home phone almost never rang, so it was almost a startling sound to heart. But Luhan was distinctly aware of how early Sehun needed to be up for work the following morning, and how light of a sleep he’d really become.

“Hello?” Luhan asked, his voice a little gravely. He cleared his throat and sat up in the darkness, trying not to jostle Sehun.

“Luhan," Suho breathed out from the other side of the line, the tone of his voice frightening.

“Suho,” Luhan replied, reaching for the light on the bedside table. “What’s wrong.” 

Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

“Are you home?” Suho demanded, and echoing in the distance Luhan could hear the distinct sounds of cars and people. Suho was outside?

“What’s going on?” Sehun asked with a rumble, sitting up and hardly looking aware of much.

Luhan glanced briefly at the clock nearby. “It’s two in the morning, Suho. Of course we’re home.”

There was relief palpable in Suho’s voice as he said, “Okay. Good. Stay there. Swear to me you’ll stay there.”

Luhan gripped harder at the phone. “Suho. What’s wrong? Why …” Why did Suho sound so scared?

“I need you to stay there,” Suho repeated, and then Luhan could hear Emily in the background, calling out that their cab had arrived. Where was Suho going? “Do not leave that house.”

“You are scaring me,” Luhan ground out, and he felt Sehun’s arm come around him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Sounding a little breathless, “I just got a notification—from my guy in customs. They pinged, Luhan. The just pinged.”

“Pinged?” Luhan felt his stomach drop out, and then even with Sehun wrapped around him, he was too frozen to move.

With a gust of exhale, Suho finally said, “Your parents, Luhan. My guy in customs said their passports just came through. They’re in the country. They’re in South Korea. And if I had to bet anything, I’d say they’re coming straight in your direction.”

“Luhan,” Sehun said, looking terrified in his own right. But Luhan couldn’t guess if Sehun had heard Suho’s words, or if he was just parroting back the look on Luhan’s own face. 

“I’m on my way,” Suho told them over the phone. “Don’t do anything until I get there.”

Sehun abandoned Luhan in a second, frantically kicking the blankets away as he practically tumbled out of bed. He took the curve to their room so hard he nearly hit the door, then he was flying down the hallway, going to one place and only one place.

Voice nearly a whisper, Luhan asked, “Both of them.”

“Both,” Suho relayed.

A second later Luhan could hear Sehun on Kyungjae’s baby monitor, murmuring to himself about everything being safe.

“Okay,” Luhan said shakily. “Okay.”

“Stay there,” Suho said, sounding like a song on repeat.

“Okay,” Luhan repeated too.

But things were far from okay, and with the threat of his parents suddenly too close, Luhan didn’t know how things could be again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you so much to everyone who decided to come back for this second story in the series. When I finished the first, I never had any plans to even write this story. But now that it's all said and done, I have to extend appreciation to all of you who stuck with it until the end, and supported the story, and had kind words for me. Thank you for being invested in these characters. Thank you for caring.
> 
> And who knows, there might be a final and third story in the series on the way at some point. Because it would be a terrible, terrible thing to just leave it like that. Right?
> 
> Anyway, this is the one and only time, if any of you know me by now, that I will ever ask for feedback and comments. Please leave a comment and tell me how you enjoyed the story as a whole. Whether you commented every chapter, or enjoyed lurking. Whether you've been here from the start, or just stumbled you way in. Please let me know, and just one more time, thank you all!


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